The Gate Beyond
by Sapphire7777
Summary: The countries finally find a way to escape the mansion, but in doing so, Canada gives himself up to the creature so the others can go through with the plan. After months from being in the mansion, Britain discovers another magical world. He goes to visit it with curiosity...to find Matthew had been reborn as the Prince of Hearts. What's going on here! HetaOni!AU, Cardverse!AU
1. Prince of the Heart Kingdom

**Author's Note**: Wow... I have absolutely no idea where I came up with this story. XD I was just writing some ideas down, because I was taking a break from writing my HetaPotter fanfiction...and it sort of happened. XD I swear, every time I wrote 'the Kingdom of Hearts', I thought of the game Kingdom Hearts. XD I almost wrote Sora instead of Matthew a couple time too! XD WHO DOES THAT, OTHER THAN THE CRAZY WRITER KNOWN AS SAPPHIRE?! XD I REALLY liked how it turned out, though! THERE ARE SO MANY IDEAS ARE RUNNING THROUGH MY BRAIN! But, I wanna know what YOU think, so feel free to drop a review! If I missed a spelling/grammar mistake, please let me know so I can quickly correct it! Thanks so much for reading the story! Really, you have no idea how much that means to me! SAPPHIRE OUT!

**Warning:** Mild language, OCs, or possible genderbends will be used! Don't like, please move along and don't read~

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Hetalia! If I did, I probably wouldn't be writing this. xD

**Chapter One: Prince of the Heart Kingdom**

_He was running. For how long, it was anybody's guess. Maybe it was hours upon hours, or a few simple minutes stretched out to an impossible length due to fear. His lungs screamed and burned for oxygen, his gasps eventually becoming like fear's deadly metronome. Hot, sticky blood dripped down from a large gash on his forehead, a recent wound compared to the others across his chest that threatened to reopen._

_He could still hear that creature behind him! God, he could **still** hear it! How could it still be in arms' distance when he had been running at top speed for so, **so** long? Its impossibly large feet thumped against the wooden floor, its monstrous breath still steady and intimidating._

_He tried running down the stairs, praying to whatever god was out there that he wouldn't trip and fall. He made quick turns and twists every time he spotted a hallway, but everything he did proved to be a waste of time. The creature still kept him in sight at every turn, even getting **closer**. He bit his lip. He knew he wouldn't last much longer, and the creature knew it too._

_His eyes widened in sudden realization when he found he had made a wrong turn into a room, trapping himself. He barely had the time to turn around before the monster brought its clawed hand down. At first, the tick of a still running, nearby clock seemed to slow. He felt no pain at all. To be more precise, he felt nothing at all. He simply stared down dumbly at the arm stuck inside his chest; the purple arm bulging with unnatural muscle. Then, it hit him. The white hot, searing pain. He screamed in agony and crumbled to the floor when the arm was removed. The creature's breath got softer and softer as it walked away, feeling as if its job had been done._

_His breath came in short, ragged gasps. He could feel the blood pouring into a crimson pool around him. He almost let out a chuckle at how pitiful he must've looked. He was going to die alone in his own pool of blood. How cliché was that?_

_At death's door, he found tears smearing the blood stains on his cheeks. He was going to die without anyone ever remembering him. He was going to die without telling Alfred that he wasn't that bad of a brother. He was going to die without truly loving someone, and having them love him back._

_Heh, what a pathetic waste of oxygen he was._

_Then, a face hovered over his. The man's blue eyes were wide and tear-filled, his usual energetic expression wiped away. He stared at the new man, obviously shocked to see him, "A-Al? H-How...? I th-thought-"_

_"I didn't want to leave my younger brother. I thought that I would be able to save you if I came in time. Pl-Please, Mattie... D-Don't die..." Alfred explained, tears dripping from his cheeks onto his brother._

_He smiled at Alfred. He was so childish and naïve, but... at least he would get to fulfill one of his wishes before he died, "I-It's okay, Al... J-Just know that... th-that I never r-really thought y-you... to be th-that bad of a... brother..." He took one last, airy breath and fell limp, his violet-blue eyes still smiling up at Alfred._

_"N-No... Mattie..." Alfred hugged his brother's limp body tightly in his arms, tears falling down his cheeks in rivers, "MATTIE!"_

* * *

Matthew woke up with a start, his chest heaving. He scanned his bedroom with frantic eyes before ripping his shirt off to view his chest. It... was perfectly fine. So that... had been just a nightmare. A very _realistic_ nightmare.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead and let his beating heart calm down. That was a very weird dream... He had had nightmares before, like any normal person would, but never had he had one so gruesome. He died in a pool of his own blood, for God's sake!

"Master Williams?" Matthew turned his gaze towards the door at the sound of a knock, "Is everything all right? I thought I heard something."

"Everything is fine, Anastasia," Matthew quickly assured.

"Of course, Master Williams. Also, your father would like me to inform you that he will be out until this evening," Matthew almost cried out in joy at his maid's reply. Father would be gone, so he could sneak out for the first time in months!

"Thank you for telling me. That'll be all, Anastasia," He smiled brightly as he heard her heels clip down the hallway. Today was going to be a wonderful day!

He jumped out of bed and threw his closet doors open. He grabbed a thin, linen shirt and shrugged it on, then quickly shuffled into a loose pair of shorts that fell below his knees. He grabbed a cloak and a pair of boots, skidding into the hallway. He pulled his boots onto his feet with fumbling fingers and clasped the metal clip (obviously of Heart Kingdom design, as the metal clip was formed into a heart) on the collar of his cloak as he ran down the stairs.

He ran pass ancient paintings and podiums, which held just as old sculptures, and strode into the castle's kitchen.

"Not thinkin' about sneaking out, are ye, lad?" The blond whipped his head in the direction of the gruff voice, but the tension quickly melted away at the sight of the castle's cook Boris Fendrel. The man was large and rounded, but not from fat. Oh no, the man was pure muscle. Although the man would appear menacing, especially with that long scar across his left eye, he was actually quite a kind soul.

"No, of course not, Boris," Matthew lied easily with a laugh, "I just thought I would get something to eat before going out on a ride on Rain."

"Then you've come to the right place!" Boris smiled and let out that booming, jolly laugh of his. He opened one of the many wooden cabinets and grabbed something from inside before closing it once more, "Loaf of bread - freshly baked this morning." He threw it towards Matthew, the younger boy easily catching it.

"Thanks, Boris!" Matthew smiled and took a bite out of the still warm food.

"It's my pleasure to serve you, Your Highness," Boris responded with a bow.

"Stop it, Boris. You know I don't like it when you do that. It's just Matthew."

"I know that!" Boris smirked and straightened himself, "But you're going to have to get used to it. You're the Prince of Hearts, and in the hopefully faraway future when your father dies, the King of Hearts."

Matthew sighed and diverted his sharp, pooling violet-blue eyes at the suddenly very interesting ground, "I know..."

Boris frowned and put a large, calloused hand on the young prince's shoulder. Matthew looked up in surprise, the tall, muscled man scanning him over in the morning light with chocolate brown eyes, "Look at it this way, ye have a long time before ye become king, so cheer up. Ye still have the rest of your youth ahead of ye."

Matthew put some of his wavy, blond hair behind his ear and gave a weak smile, "Okay. Thanks, Boris."

"No problem. Anything is worth getting a smile back on that face of your's. Now, run along," Boris smiled and ushered Matthew out of the kitchen. Matthew paused a moment before running off to the stables. He had told Boris he was going to ride Rain, so he should at least go to the stables, as to not look suspicious.

* * *

Matthew weaved through the crowded streets with a grin. He loved being out in the village. The aroma of baking food carried on the crisp air and the braying of stubborn donkeys acted as an alarm clock to all of those that were still asleep. For Matthew, someone who had been sheltered all his life, this was a wonderful, refreshing sight.

He wandered with the crowd, pulling the cowl of his cloak further over his face when the wind started to blow. Matthew eventually came upon the Town Square, where many people had gathered around one man. He pushed through to get a better look at what was reeling the townspeople in, before he too found himself staring.

The man in the center had wild, dirty blond hair. He was relatively fair-skinned and his eyes were closed. An enormous pair of eyebrows sat above the man's eye sockets, knitted in concentration. The man played on a violin, the beautiful notes and rhythms reverberating through the air. He moved the bow against the silken strings with a simple, yet amazing elegance that would have any musician jealous.

Before Matthew knew it, however, the song had come to an end. Some of the villagers clapped, while others dropped coins into the black pot beside the blond street musician. The man didn't smile. He simply watched the people come and go with cat-like, emerald green eyes and a stoic expression. Matthew almost turned to leave, but stopped in his tracks when two castle guards approached the man.

"Do you have permission to be playing here, sir?" One of the guards asked curtly.

That seemed to pull some kind of emotion from the man, "Uh, well, you see..."

"If you don't have permission, sir, we'll have to arrest you." At that, the man's green eyes widened then darted around his surroundings, as if looking for an escape route. The guards moved forward, prepared to grab him if he tried to run.

"Stop," Matthew suddenly found himself commanding. What was he doing? He was going to blow his cover like this!

The guards whipped their gazes onto the prince, along with the musician, "Sir?"

"I said stop," Matthew repeated and came closer, "You will not arrest that man for simply playing wonderful music without permission. That's like arresting someone for eating without permission."

"And who are you to tell us to stop?"

"Prince Matthew Williams," He removed his cowl, "Heir to the Kingdom of Hearts."

The guards gasped in shock and immediately went into a kneeling position. The musician seemed surprised too, but an awful lot more than the guards before him.

"Forgive us, Your Majesty! We did not know it was you!"

"You are forgiven. Now, rise and preform your duties - without mention of this meeting." The soldiers chirped quick "yes, sir"s and stood up, walking away as if nothing had happened.

Matthew smiled at the still in shock blond and pulled his cowl back up, "I'm sorry about that. They have good intentions, but those can go only so far."

"You're Matthew...?" The musician gaped.

Matthew let out an awkward laugh and sidestepped, "Yes, but please, don't go shouting it out. I'm not really suppose to be here, you see."

The reply seemed to confuse the man, "Don't you recognize me?"

"I'm afraid not. If we had met before, I would definitely remember."

"It's me. Britain. Arthur Kirkland," Arthur looked at Matthew as if he was something that couldn't possibly exist, but at the same time was right in front of him.

Matthew frowned in confusion, "Your name does sound vaguely familiar. Where did we meet?" Before he could get a reply, he noticed the sudden increase of guards in the area, all obviously searching for something, or rather someone, "Maple. Looks like they know I'm gone."

"Gone?"

Matthew suddenly took off his necklace, which consisted of a simple chain with an intricately carved sapphire heart, and handed it to Arthur, "I'd like to talk more. When you can, go to the castle and ask to see me, then show the guards that necklace. They should let you through."

"What? But-"

"Goodbye!"

Matthew ran towards the castle and left a dumbfounded Arthur behind. Arthur watched Matthew's cloaked silhouette fade into the crowd until all he could see were villagers and troubled guards. Even here, Matthew had an amazing ability to go invisible.

That lead to another question. Just how could he be here? He had died in that mansion that the countries had made a silent vow to never mention again. The body was the best evidence to know that, but if that wasn't enough, America had watched him die. He didn't talk for many months after, which scared many of the nations, even him. When the blond nation regained his voice, he still wasn't the same. It was as if America wasn't Alfred anymore.

So, how could the person that caused America that much grief, be here in a world that Arthur had only just discovered? A world that had been sealed off by something so powerful that even he had trouble unsealing?

There were definitely some questions that needed answering.

Arthur put his violin away into the leather case, then let out a sharp, clear whistle. A few seconds later, a familiar, mint-colored bunny appeared.

"Yes, Britain?"

"Flying Mint Bunny, I need you to look after someone while I return to our world. He's the Prince of Hearts. Don't worry, you'll recognize him when you see him."

"Of course!" Flying Mint Bunny smiled. Britain watched with a fond smile as the creature flew off in the direction of the castle, but a frown quickly returned to his face. He lifted up the necklace that Matthew had given him to the sun, watching the sapphire gems gleam in a mystifying way. It sure was a beautiful trinket. Valuable too, most likely.

Arthur shoved the necklace into his pocket and prepared to bring himself back into his world. Things were about to get interesting.


	2. A Memory Upon the Wings of a Mint Bunny

**Author's Note:** Wow... This chapter is crazy. I'm not even joking! Sorry, in advance, for any confusion. XD BUUUUUUT, the beginning is really good! I really like Flying Mint Bunny in this chapter, because I based her off my five-year-old cousin Abigail. XD MY PRECIOUSES~! Anyway...wow. This is my longest chapter ever for a story. YAYNESS! Now, please remember to point any spelling/grammar mistakes I missed and enjoy! SAPPHIRE OUT!

**Awesome11: **Pfft, I already responded to this, but THAT COULD SO HAPPEN! XD

**BrOwNiEfOx: **Aw, thank you! Means a lot! c:

**Triad Skyline:** Thanks so much! I really try my best to keep you interested!

**TearsMightDry:** XDDD Okay, no worries! I'll keep updating!

**Anon007:** Thanks! And, possibly! No yaoi pairings, but I'm thinking up pairings! Please let me know if you have suggestions, genderbends and OCs acceptable.

**Toshiro-TaichoSandwich27:** Potential? O.o Wow...really? Well...thanks! That means a lot! :D

**Warning: **Mild language, OCs, or possible genderbends will be used! Don't like, please move along and don't read~

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Hetalia! If I did, I probably wouldn't be writing this. xD

**Chapter Two: A Memory Upon the Wings of a Mint-colored Bunny**

Matthew crept into the castle. He had to be _very_ careful not to make too much noise, otherwise he would get caught. He glided up the steps with little-to-no noise, which he found himself mentally hurrahing at. He was almost in the clear. He just had to get into his room and-

"Where _have_ you been?!" Matthew winced at the Head Maid's screech. Oh no. Why did it have to be Mrs. Clarke that saw him?

"I, uh, was-"

"You were in the village again, weren't you?" Matthew found himself shrinking in fear at the sickeningly sweet, menacing tone she used. Mrs. Clarke had a reputation for being..._intimidating_, I suppose you say. Her misty, gray eyes narrowed at the prince when he didn't answer, "I _knew_ it! You're always sneaking out to go there! If I had the authority, I would give you a good whipping to teach you a lesson. But, _unfortunately_, I don't. That is up to your father."

"I-I'm sorry, Mrs. Clarke..."

"Oh, trust me, you _will _be sorry. Even your father can't ignore that you've sneaked out so many times," She hissed and grabbed Matthew's wrist. She dragged the boy towards the throne room, which made the boy flinch, because even for a woman of her age, she had an extraordinary strength.

The throne room was in a circular, almost oval, design. Purple tapestries adorned the walls, a golden heart in the center of each. Twelve chairs were lined against the white walls, one of the chairs much larger than all the others. It stretched up towards the ceiling and shone in the late afternoon light. It was made of pure gold. Only the true King of Hearts could sit in that chair without the fear of being smote down by the Guardian of the Four Kingdoms.

Matthew's father sat in the throne as he conversed with a middle-aged woman. She had long, brunette hair that fell on her shoulders. A chartreuse dress hugged her body perfectly and fell in ruffles around her feet. She appeared to be in an in-depth conversation with the king, as worry lines were etched on her face.

The king noticed that Matthew had entered, so he quickly whispered a few words to the woman. She nodded and exited the throne room, doing a quick curtsy in recognition of Matthew when she had passed him.

"I found him, Your Highness. He was trying to sneak back into his room. He had been out in the village again as you suspected," Mrs. Clarke quickly explained.

"I see. Thank you, Angela. You are dismissed."

The maid did a stiff curtsy and left the room, leaving the two members of the Royal Family alone.

"Father, I-"

"No, Matthew. This about the hundredth time you've sneaked out. I can't even trust you to stay home when I'm gone," the king sighed and stood up. He walked towards Matthew and put his hands on the prince's shoulders, "I know this seems unfair. I know how much keeping you inside the castle makes it feel like a prison. I remember that feeling when my father, your grandfather, was still king. One day it will make sense. It's just to keep you safe."

"From what, Father? What are you keeping me safe from?" Matthew asked, looking up at his father for answers.

"You'll see one day, although I wish you didn't have to," he replied vaguely, "Until that day you are not allowed to step outside this castle. Because you have refused to obey me, you are not even allowed to go to the outer part of the castle."

"But Father-"

"No buts. I'll ask someone else to take care of Rain and the stables. Now please, just go to your room."

Matthew bit his lip and ran from the room. What could be so dangerous that his father didn't want him going outside, or scared him so much that he didn't want to tell Matthew? What could possibly do that to the strong man?

* * *

America pulled his cotton sheets over his face, groaning as the morning light seeped into the room. It was one of those mornings where, if you didn't have your blankets over your head, the light shined in just the right way on your eyes that it made you want to throttle the sun's imaginary throat. America really didn't want to get up. He had a horrible migraine due to a hangover, and he just... didn't want to move.

_Knock, knock!_

But, of course, someone just_ had _to want to talk to him.

He angrily threw his covers to the side and stormed out of his room. He opened the front door, prepared to slam it shut again if the person's reply wasn't efficient enough, "What do you want?"

Britain looked up at the tall personification of the United States of America. His expression was not angry, but it wasn't concerned either. It was simply a neutral expression to mask how troubled the Brit was really feeling, "We need to talk. I discovered something and I think you're the one person I should be telling first. It's about your brother."

America looked Britain up and down before letting out a sigh. He ran a hand through his wheat blond hair and closed his eyes. He was just tired. So, so tired. He moved to the side so the British man could enter, "Come on in. Sorry in advance for the mess."

Britain walked inside, hearing the door click shut behind him. Honestly, he was appalled about what he saw upon entering. When America had said mess, he meant _mess_. The living room was practically trashed with wrappers and sticky notes. The glass doors that acted as the only window for the room had the velvet curtains pulled over them, blocking out all natural light. America wiped some of the trash from the leather recliner onto the floor and plopped down comfortably. Britain couldn't help but scrunch his nose in distaste.

"Bloody hell, when was the last time you cleaned this place?" Britain asked, hoping to God that he hadn't really just seen a cockroach crawl into a particularly big pile of trash.

"When was the last time you _cared_?" America snapped, wincing as his migraine took another jab at his temples, "Now, I don't want to deal with anything unimportant or to do with yelling. My. Head. Hurts. Got it?"

"If I must," Arthur sighed. It really hurt him to see America like this. Although he often claimed to hate the blond American, he still...somewhat...thought of him as family. Hopefully, if that Prince of Hearts really turned out to be Matthew, the old Alfred would return. Hopefully, "I was on one of my many adventures to a new world, one of many that a simple spell will take you to, when I discovered something rather interesting. Or rather, _someone_, interesting. This someone would look very familiar to you. I asked him what his name was, and you know what he said? Matthew Williams."

Blue eyes narrowed on Arthur, "That's not funny, Britain."

"It's not meant to be. I would never joke about this kind of thing."

"Matthew is _dead_," Alfred growled, "So he can't be alive in some make-believe world of your's."

"I can show you it's real. I can take you to him. If he's not there, then you can beat me to the point of near death," Britain pleaded, "Please, Alfred. I just want to show you that there's hope. The universe is big, wonderful, and mysterious. It's so enormous! Sometimes, very rarely, impossible things happen and we call them miracles. Now, in all of my years as a country, I have only seen a miracle three times in my life. This is one of those three miracles."

America looked Britain over and searched for any sign of insincerity. He, surprisingly, found none. He really hoped this wasn't some elaborate lie. He wanted so much for his brother to be alive. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took his glasses off, "Okay, okay. I'll go. Come back at 6:30pm."

* * *

Matthew sat on his windowsill and watched the town buzz about their daily lives. He could be down there with them, if hadn't been born a prince. He could be free from someone always breathing down his neck and the fear of whatever was out there would kill him. He could be free.

"Hi there!"

The prince yelped in surprise and nearly fell out the window, because inches from his face had appeared a mint-colored bunny. A _flying_ mint-colored bunny. God, the stress _had_ to be getting to him.

"W-W-What the maple?!" Matthew sputtered.

"Wow, that's so weird! You even talk like him!" The bunny said in amazement, landing in front of Matthew, "I'm Flying Mint Bunny!"

What an ironic name, Matthew thought absentmindedly, "Flying Mint Bunny...? And talk like who?"

"You look and talk like Canadia/Matthew," Flying Mint Bunny replied quickly, "And that is my name!"

"Not to be rude or anything, but... why are you here?"

"Mr. Britain wanted me to look after you!"

Matthew frowned in confusion, "Who's Mr. Britain?"

Flying Mint Bunny rolled her eyes, "Arthur Kirkland! You met him!"

The blond blinked in surprise. That musician he had met in the Town Square had sent this creature... to protect him? Why? "Why would Mr. Kirkland send you to look after me?" Matthew voiced his thoughts.

"Dunno. He didn't say."

...

Was it just him or did this strange creature have the personality of a five year old?

"Ohhhhh! Shiny stuff!"

No, the bunny _definitely_ had the personality of a five year old.

"Um, excuse me, Flying Mint Bunny?" Matthew asked and stood up, following the creature to his mother's old jewelry box, "But... just what are you?"

Flying Mint Bunny looked at Matthew as if she had been offended. "You don't just ask people that kind of thing! That's rude! I'm a magical mint bunny that flies. What is so hard about that to understand?" She explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Er, I-I'm sorry... I didn't mean to offend you..."

"It's fine! Ooooo~ So many shinies!"

"Hey, don't touch that!"

"No! THEY'RE MY PRECIOUSES!"

_Crash!_

This was going to be a _very_ long day.

* * *

"This better not be a joke," America said for about the fiftieth time. He had cleaned up since earlier that day and looked much better, at least, that was what Britain had said. His hands were stuffed in his bomber jacket as he looked around the aforementioned Brit's house.

"It's not," Britain sighed and put a hand on America's shoulder, "Now, I'm going to transport us there. Stay still."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever..."

"**Transfer ad terram of pecto!**" A light suddenly flashed in America's eyes and seemed to take all the oxygen from his lungs. He gasped for breath as he was swallowed into an endless sea of black, before he found himself in a medieval-looking town.

America looked around in shock, "What the...?"

"Is it _really_ that much of a shock that I was telling the truth?" Britain sighed in annoyance, "Now, I should say something before I take you to him. He won't remember you. For whatever reason, his memories of being a nation are gone. My name did spark something inside of him, though. Oh, and he's a prince in this world."

"A _prince_?"

"Yeah, didn't I mention?"

America simply stared unbelievingly at the Brit, following him towards the castle. At first, he hadn't even believed in magic, but if that was real...then maybe Matthew could truly be alive as well?

"Who goes there?" The guards at the front of the castle asked in a cliché voice.

"Arthur Kirkland and Alfred F. Jones. We are here to see the prince. He said this would be enough proof," Arthur took out the gleaming, sapphire necklace. The guards' eyes widened, but eventually let them through.

"Excuse me? Would you like help with anything?" A small, thin maid asked politely. She had short, strawberry blonde hair that stopped a little below her chin. Her eyes were a light chocolate brown and showed a subtle, playful emotion.

"Yes, actually," Britain replied, "May you take us to the prince? We're here to see him."

"Of course, right this way."

The maid quickly took them through the hallways and up the stairs to a large, wooden door. She knocked on the mahogany door with pale knuckles before calling out, "Master Williams, two men are here to see you."

There was a grumble and some shuffling behind the door before it swung open. Matthew looked in surprise at Britain, but quickly dismissed the maid, apparently named Anastasia, and invited them into the room.

Alfred couldn't believe his eyes. Matthew, the brother he believed to be dead, was right in front of him. How was that possible?!

"It's good to see you again, Mr. Kirkland," Matthew spoke in his meek voice, "But I must say, that Flying Mint Bunny of your's is sure a handful."

"She didn't cause too much trouble for you, did she?"

"Well, after she fell asleep," Matthew gestured to the sleeping bunny on his bed, "She was an angel." Britain stiffened slightly. He _really_ should've sent someone else to look after Matthew.

The prince looked over at Alfred with curiosity. He oddly had the same exact appearance of the man from the nightmare that he had had the other night. It must just be a coincidence, though, he told himself, "Who's your friend, Mr. Kirkland?"

"Please, call me Arthur. This is Alfred F. Jones," Britain introduced.

"It's nice to meet you," America replied stiffly.

"And you as well," Matthew smiled. Wow, he really couldn't shake the feeling that he knew the man before him.

"You're crying," Alfred suddenly remarked.

"Eh?" Matthew touched the small, salty drip of water on his cheek, "I don't know why I'm crying..." More tears began to flow down his cheeks, "It's like... I'm _really_ happy..." His shoulders suddenly began to shake with sobs, "W-Why am I so happy?!"

"It's because you know us!" Alfred suddenly cried out, breaking his ignorant façade, "It's me, America! Your brother! C'mon, Mattie! You have to know me!"

"I d-don't know you...!" Matthew sobbed and slowly backed away, "But y-you're familiar at the s-same time! You look _e-exactly_ like _him_! The man f-from my n-nightmare!"

"Nightmare...?"

"_Go away!_ P-Please, just leave me alone!" Matthew pleaded. He didn't like the strange, twisted feeling of being wonderfully happy for a reason unknown to him. Alfred appeared to have been severely hurt by the plea, but Matthew wasn't sure if he should care or not. He looked away and ran, just as Matthew told him to, out of the room.

"Alfred!" Arthur called in worry and followed after the American.

Matthew slid to the ground and hugged his knees to his chest. He couldn't help but feel like he had done something wrong by asking those...strangers, that was what he called them now, to leave.

_"It's me, America! Your brother! C'mon, Mattie! You have to know me!"_

Why did he have the feeling that he actually _did_ know him?


	3. The Black Trumps

**Author's Note: **HOLY FUDGE MONKEYS! HOW DID I COME UP WITH THIS CHAPTER? IT'S SO LONG. 3,000 PLUS WORDS! WHAT'S GOING ON HERE?! -cough- Ahem, sorry about that, but... Seriously. This is my longest chapter EVER. THREE. FLIPPING. THOUSAND. PLUS. WORDS. I owe it all to you guys for motivating me to continue this story to this extent. XD Anyway, as usual, please enjoy and point out any writing errors I make so I can correct them! SAPPHIRE OUT!

**Chihori-chan:** Aw, thankies!

**Awesome11: **Lol. XD Was it really that sad? But thanks!

**BrOwNiEfOx:** LOL! XDDD Here you go. -hands tissues- c:

**Chi Cheshire Neko:** Awwww, thanks so much! They're my favorite things too!

**esdertytg:** MY STORY IS AWESOME LIKE PRUSSIA?! I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW THAT WAS POSSIBLE!

**BlackRoseGirl666:** Original? Seriously? NO ONE'S THOUGHT OF THIS BEFORE?! -mindblow-

**Ottawa: **Thanks so much! c:

**Triad Skyline:** No problem! And I know, Flying Mint Bunny is the best. XD And actually, you're the second person to say that, BUT THANKIES! :3

**Warning:** Mild language, OCs, or possible genderbends will be used! Don't like, please move along and don't read~

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Hetalia! If I did, I probably wouldn't be writing this. xD

**Chapter Three: The Black Trumps**

_Matthew faced his brother who was now wounded and covered in bandages. The bandages obviously needed to be changed, as they were soaked in blood, but they simply didn't have anymore of the white cloth to spare. Alfred was clearly angered by something and clenched the bed sheets of the small bed he found himself in, trying to keep his anger to a minimum._

_"I told you already! I'll be your substitute!" Matthew shouted, throwing his hand to his chest as if to prove a point, "Look, we look almost exactly the same. It would completely fool the enemy. You're injured, so I'll be your decoy-"_

_**It's pointless.**_

_"I already told you to cut that out!" Alfred yelled and threw the Canadian a deadly glare. Matthew winced at the glare, his determination fading slightly._

_**I'm sick of this.**_

_"How many times do I..." Alfred growled, tears falling down his cheeks as he clenched the bed sheets tighter, "How many times do I have to lose you and everyone?!"_

_**Why don't you just let me help?**_

_The scene suddenly morphed into a small room with an odd, ivory piano in the center. Matthew moved about the room, now alone because England had gone to search through the books in the next room over. His train of thoughts were suddenly brought to a stop, his previous thoughts blow away by the nonexistent wind._

_"Um... What was I thinking about again? I forgot it when I talked to England..." He let out an irritated sigh and moved past the ivory piano, "First the piano. God, America's always getting us into trouble. Why can't he be a little more considerate? I mean-" The door suddenly clicked open, and assuming it was England, he continued with his back turned, "Oh, is that you, England? I'm sorry; I haven't looked here yet. Also! We were told not to do anything alone, remember? I'm coming with you this time."_

_There was no reply, which made his suspicions rise. He licked his lips nervously at the harsh, horridly familiar breathing that filled his ears. He turned slowly towards the breathing, his eyes widening in terror at the monster towering before him, "Whoa! Wh-wha-what-"_

_The creature brought its arm down, grabbing him and throwing him against the wall like a rag doll. He grunted in pain, but he didn't have the time to recover as the creature stabbed him with its vicious, clawed hand. His heart stopped in his chest as he felt the intrusion inside his stomach. The minute it was removed, he heaved one last breath and faded into black._

_**I...**_

_**I can't see anything...**_

_**Anything but the dark...**_

* * *

Matthew sat up in his bed, much like the last time he had awakened from a similar nightmare. His skin felt awkward and slick from sweat, making Matthew scrunch his nose in distaste. He looked towards his open window to find the full moon still high in the sky, sitting like a proud king among the twinkling stars.

He swung his legs off the bed and stood up, his body still shaky from the nightmare. He moved his bare feet on the cold, wooden floor and made his way to the windowsill. He put his hands on the metal lining of the window and looked out onto the sea of clustered houses below. Every villager slept peacefully in their cozy beds and only would be awakened by the sun's call.

Matthew let the cool breeze blow against his skin, the prince relaxing at the pleasurable feeling. He stretched and let tight muscles and bones pop, grunting as they did so. He sat on the windowsill and ran a hand through his wavy hair. That nightmare had been too realistic for his liking and, whether he liked it or not, he obviously knew Arthur and Alfred. Although he hadn't the slightest clue how, he knew that he was at least connected to the two men. If only he hadn't sent them off, he could've gotten real answers.

He sighed. If only he hadn't let his emotions get the better of him. Tomorrow, he was going to find a way to sneak out and find them, without a care of his father's attempt to keep him locked up.

Yes, tomorrow he was leaving the castle.

* * *

_Yesterday Evening_

Alfred ran out of the castle, completely ignoring Britain's calls. Matthew had been inches from him, so close that he could actually touch him... But he had messed it up. Matthew's words still rung in his head, each word stinging like a whip.

_"Go away! Pl-Please, just leave me alone!"_

Alfred had hurt him, when he was so close...

He eventually stopped in an alleyway and put a hand on the brick to support himself. Why was he so stupid?! He should've not said anything! He banged his fist against the hard wall of the building.

Why couldn't he...

_Bang!_

Just...

_Bang!_

Think things through for once in his pathetic life?!

His raised his arm to bang his fist against the bricks again, only to find it stopped in mid-air. America turned his head to the side and looked with wide eyes at Britain.

"Stop it. You're only going to hurt yourself."

America "tch"ed and forced his arm from the Brit's grip. He didn't care... He just didn't care.

Britain let out a sigh, "Just so you know, it wasn't entirely your fault. Matthew was obviously already distressed by the sudden onslaught of emotions and you were the first thing his mind could lash out at to try and make sense of everything he was experiencing."

"And I made myself that target by speaking," Alfred snapped, "So, yeah, technically it was all my fault."

"Do you think, Alfred, that when Matthew regains his memories that he'll enjoy knowing that he made you like this? Do you think that he would want you beating yourself up over this?" Britain asked and narrowed his eyes on the younger blonde. America was silenced at those questions. To be honest, he knew the answer. Matthew would be furious. Probably would have that hockey stick of his out and ready to beat him...

"No... He wouldn't like it..." He managed to ground out, not happy to admit he was wrong.

"Good. Now, get your head out of that gutter and stop moping around. We're going to stay the night here and try again tomorrow. Flying Mint Bunny is still protecting Matthew, so I can just get her to ask him if it would be okay for us to visit," Britain smiled and hit America encouragingly on the back.

"Heh. Okay, dude. Let's do it."

* * *

_Next Morning_

"What is each role/chosen character of the kingdoms? What does each role do?" Matthew's tutor, Edward Grimwell, asked.

"The chosen roles of a kingdom are King, Queen, Ace, and Joker," Matthew recited perfectly, "The King leads the kingdom into prosperity and keeps the power in balance, the Queen acts as an ambassador and forms treaties and alliances with the other kingdoms, the Ace acts as the Head of the Army and controls all military affairs, and the Joker acts a neutral power. The Joker is a role that is very obscure and not much is known about them. All we know is that they act as a mediator during the times of war, and unlike the other roles, they do not have a seat on the council. Hence there only being twelve chairs."

"Correct," Mr. Grimwell checked off something on his clipboard, "Who currently holds these roles today?"

"The King of Spades is Arsenius Vagan, the Queen of Spades is Elizabeth Vagan, the Ace of Spades is Jonathan McDougal, and the Joker of Spades is Amelia Hohenheim. The-" Matthew suddenly cut himself off when his father cleared his throat.

"I don't mean to intrude," the king began, "But could you continue your lesson with my son later, Mr. Grimwell? I need to speak with him." The older man murmured a "Very well." and grabbed his things before shuffling out the room.

"What is it, Father?" Matthew asked curiously.

His father sat where Mr. Grimwell had been a few moments before, a serious, contemplative look on his face, "Well, son, since your nineteenth birthday is coming up, I thought it was about time I talked to you about a certain subject. When I die-"

Matthew frowned, "Don't say that."

"No, no. It's the reality of things. Besides, I won't be dying for hopefully many years, but that's not the point. When I finally pass on, you'll have to take the throne, but you'll have to have found the person who will take the role of Queen. With your mother's passing a few years ago, our relations with the other kingdoms has... been put on hold, so to speak. But it can't remain that way forever. I know, the thought of marrying at your age doesn't sound fun, I've been there, but it's the only way the kingdom can prosper. Now, hold out your hand," Matthew did as he was told, his father putting something into his hand and closing his own hand around it, "That is the Watch of Hearts. If you were to look at it now, it would be broken. It has been created to where it will only be fixed once you have found your Queen. It was in your mother's care before she died."

Matthew looked at the pocket watch with fascination. Rubies clashed with pure gold and formed a perfect heart. He clicked it open to find it, sure enough, not ticking, "But Father... I don't think I'm ready for that..."

"You're more ready than you think you are. Don't worry, everything will turn out fine," the king smiled in reassurance, "Now, I'll be off. I'll set up some balls for you to meet a few girls. Just don't be afraid, Matthew." He ruffled the blonde's hair and walked out of the room, leaving Matthew alone in his thoughts.

His fist closed around the watch. He was going to get _married_? He was just eighteen, albeit he was turning nineteen soon, but that was still too young! What on earth was he going to do? There was no way he was going to get married!

Suddenly interrupted in his thoughts, a flash of green shot out and whacked Matthew's head, causing the boy to fall over. He groaned and rubbed where had been hit and searched the room to find what had so suddenly lashed out at him. He quickly found a familiar, flying creature...

"HI!" Flying Mint Bunny greeted.

"Oh... _You_ again," Matthew grumbled.

"What's that suppose to mean?" The magical creature pouted, "And I was going to give you a message from Mr. Britain... Such a shame..."

Matthew's eyes immediately widened at the the bunny. Arthur had sent him a message? "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way, eh. What's the message?"

"Oh~ The message~" She smiled and flew in circles, "He wanted to know if it would be okay for him and Alfred to visit today~"

"Actually... I was going to visit them."

"Oh," Flying Mint Bunny stopped flying, "I'm sure they'd be okay with that too. They're at the Moonwater Inn. I'll go ahead and let them know, but first..."

"But first...?" Matthew asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Can I mess with the shinies...?"

"GOOD GOD, NO!"

* * *

Matthew shuffled into Moonwater Inn, his cloak pulled tightly around him. It had been a pain getting out of the castle. Trump guards had almost caught him on several occasions, and Flying Mint Bunny had nearly given away his position when she had yelled, "DAT'S SPARKLY!" He found Alfred and Arthur whispering at one of the tables and sat down in the available chair.

"H-Hello," He muttered shyly.

"Mattie!" Alfred exclaimed rather loudly, gaining some odd looks.

"Shh!" The prince instantly hushed, "I'm not suppose to be here! Father has forbidden me from going outside!"

"Father...?" Alfred asked, slightly surprised.

"Yes, Father. The King of Hearts," Matthew rolled his eyes, "Now, I don't have any time for levity. I'm risking my neck to even talk to you two. I've come to realize that I do know you, in some messed up way, due to the nightmares I've been having. I need to know, who are you guys really and how do I know you?"

"Like we said before, I am Britain, or Arthur Kirkland. He's Alfred F. Jones, but he's also known as America," Britain reintroduced.

"I'm your twin brother," Alfred further explained, "And he's...sort of your former caretaker. That's how you know us. We're not sure how, but... you died in our world and got reborn here. You're known as Matthew Williams back in our world as well, but also known as Canada."

"Your world?" Matthew asked skeptically.

Britain nodded, "Yes. You see, there are many different worlds out there. Your's is but one of the millions out there. You simply need the magical ability to travel between the worlds. Our world is simply known as Earth, where the people live a much more modernized life, no offense to your world. Each country and its people are personified into a living being. I am the nation of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, Britain for short. Alfred is the United States of America, or America for short. You were Canada's personification."

"Okay... I think I'm getting the hang of this..." Matthew murmured, trying to wrap his brain around this new concept of different worlds, "So... how did I die? I've had several nightmares and I can barely figure out what actually happened. All I can tell was that I was terrified and brutally killed."

Both of the nations went silent at that. Matthew almost wanted to apologize, because of how bringing up his death would most likely cause bad memories to resurface, but he needed to know. Alfred managed to explain after a stretch of silence, "We were trapped. All of the Allies and Axis, plus Prussia, since he really doesn't count, were trapped. Italy, one of the more cheerful countries, had invited us to check out this haunted mansion. We had no idea what we were stepping into. There was a monster inside the mansion that wouldn't let us leave, no matter what we tried. It massacred everyone but poor, little Italy. Somehow the little dude reset the timeline, causing the massacre to repeat. The monster kept killing us... over and over again... Italy wouldn't allow the timeline to stay the same unless we all survived. We finally found a way to escape, but... the monster had to be distracted. You offered yourself, even though I tried to talk you out of it. You let the monster chase after you and..." Alfred trailed off, unable to continue.

"I see..." Matthew was horrified by the gore of it all. All of that killing... It would've been hell on earth.

"But that doesn't matter now," Britain said, trying to lighten the situation, "What matters is that you're alive somehow, albeit you were born into a different life in a different world, but you're alive. As the old saying goes, don't look a gift horse in the mouth."

"That's true... But..." Matthew ran a hand through his hair, "The thing is, even if I wanted to return to your world, I couldn't. Maybe a visit wouldn't hurt, but I wouldn't be able to stay."

"Why not?" Alfred asked incredulously, sounding very much like an overgrown child.

"I have a duty here. I'm the Prince of Hearts, the heir to the throne. If my father were to die without an heir, the kingdom would collapse. War would take over at an attempt to claim what was once the land of the proud kingdom of Hearts," Matthew exclaimed solemnly.

"Oh..." Alfred responded rather dumbly.

"But, like I said, a short visit every now and then wouldn't hurt," Matthew flashed a meek smile. Alfred had started to grin, but froze when the door of the inn slammed open. The three whipped their heads towards the noise to find three soldiers dressed in black. They looked around stoically, their hands twitching towards the hilts of their sheathed swords.

"Trumps..." Matthew whispered.

"Trumps?" Arthur and Alfred asked in unison.

"See that lion emblem on their armor? It means they're trumps, which is a sort of royal soldier in this world. But that black armor... I have no idea what kingdom that belongs to..." Matthew's voice trailed off, the two nations nodding in understanding.

One of the trumps stepped forward with a stern look. His head was bald, but a scruffy, black beard lined his jaw. His nose appeared to be crooked, as if it had been broken once but never healed quite the same, "Listen up, ye Heart peasants! We're lookin' for a certain Prince of Hearts, who sources tell us, has escaped from the castle and takin' refuge here. Now if ye would just give 'im up to us, we'll be on our merry way and won't harm any of ye." Matthew stiffened visibly at the realization that the man wanted _him_. His pale, calloused hand fingered nervously at the hilt of the rapier at his side. Alfred's expression had darkened, along with Britain's, but they remained silent.

"Nobody? The prince too much of a coward to come out?" The man sneered, "Well, how 'bout a little motivation?" He suddenly grabbed a girl, no older than eight-years-old, and put a knife to her neck. The girl screamed in terror, but was quickly silenced by the knife being pushed a little further to her neck.

"Stop!" Matthew shouted and stood up.

"What are you doing?!" Britain whispered fiercely.

The man looked at Matthew, grinning a gap-toothed smile, "Why should I?"

"Because I'm the prince," Matthew growled and pulled down his cowl, gaining many shocked gasps, "And I'm the one you want, aren't I?"

"That ye are," The trump snickered and practically threw the girl to the side, "Ye're comin' with us if you don't want anyone else to get hurt." Matthew simply walked forward without a question, all emotion wiped from his face.

"But if I may say something before that..." Matthew unsheathed his rapier with a grand flourish, "You're an idiot if you think I'll go without a fight!"


	4. Violet-Blue Eyes

**Author's Note:** OMG, I love this chapter sooooo much! Especially my special song near the end that I made up, based on a certain song from The Sound of Music. Also, if curious about the Eagle kingdom thing, there was actually a fifth suit of cards marked by an Eagle, or if you were in Britain, they were marked by crowns and called Royals. I'm not sure if people just stopped using them, or are just very rare, but they're real! Also Akari, if you ever end up reading this, DON'T YOU DARE SAY ANYTHING ABOUT MY OC KAYLA! NO ONE NEEDS TO KNOW! XD Anyway, as per usual, please enjoy and point out any writing errors I make so I can correct them! SAPPHIRE OUT!

**Triad Skyline: **Action FTW! Well... one of those people joins in. c: Aw, thanks for the compliment! You're so welcome!

**Awesome11:** Yeah, Jokers are mah faves as well! Oh, if you felt bad for Matthew last chapter, you'll REALLY feel bad for him this time. XD Awwww, thankies!

**esdertytg:** XD Well... Thanks? And you'll get to see if he wins or not this chapter~ :3

**Warning: **Mild language, OCs, or possible genderbends will be used! Don't like, please move along and don't read~

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Hetalia! If I did, I probably wouldn't be writing this. xD

**Chapter Four: Violet-Blue Eyes**

"But if I may say something before that..." Matthew unsheathed his rapier with a grand flourish, "You're an idiot if you think I'll go without a fight!"

"Oh no, we expected it," The man smirked and unsheathed his heavy, bulky broadsword. His two companions did likewise, one having a large battle ax, and the other with a simple longsword. Matthew stood his ground and stayed put, determined not to make the first move. He had learned from years of sword training that making the first swing often put you at a disadvantage, unless you did it in the _perfect_ way. The three circled him and threw insults at an attempt to anger him, but Matthew remained calm. The black trump with the ax swung first, which ignited the battle.

Matthew ducked to avoid the ax, then rolled onto his shoulder to dodge a slash from the longsword. He jumped up and side slashed the apparent leader of the group, but the man easily blocked it. He had a surprising skill that could possibly rival even the Ace of his kingdom. Metal clinked loudly as he switched opponents every other millisecond. Adrenaline and years of experience coursed through his veins, but he was only one man against several. He had to find a way to finish the fight quickly, or...

"All right!" America finally laughed and stepped forward, "While your sword dance is very pretty, I can end this." He withdrew his pistol from his bomber jacket and released the safety. He didn't even look as he pulled the trigger, sending a bullet into the leader's shoulder. The older man yelled in pain and collapsed to the ground with a loud _thump_!

The remaining black trumps viewed their leader with wide eyes, and realizing that they were outmatched, abandoned the hurt trump and escaped the inn. There were murmurs of witchcraft and magic throughout the inn and even Matthew seemed startled. The tired prince sheathed his rapier and approached the wounded man, who lied in a heap on the floor. Matthew put a foot on his hurt shoulder as to ensure that he wouldn't escape, causing the man to let out a painful grunt.

"That's some aim you got there, America," Matthew complimented absentmindedly, the name oddly rolling off his tongue.

"I could've made a perfect headshot, but I figured it would be better if we didn't kill him."

Matthew nodded in agreement and looked at the people, still in a state of shock, inside Moonwater Inn, "I apologize for ruining your evenings. Please know that everything is being handled and you have nothing further to worry about. Once again, I apologize for the disruption." The inn finally broke into murmurs, either filing out the door or retreating into their rooms. Relieved that that situation was taken care of, Matthew turned his gaze back onto the black trump, which currently laid under his boot.

"I am going to make this very, _very_ clear. I absolutely despise my subjects being hurt, _especially_ the children. To know that a child was hurt because of me makes me _extremely_ upset," Matthew explained and narrowed his normally meek, violet-blue eyes, "So it would be in your best interest to start explaining who you are, who you belong to, and why you wanted me." The blond pushed his foot further into the man's shoulder, purposely to cause pain, "And you might want to start talking _quickly_."

"Go Mattie!" Alfred cheered, but then whispered to Arthur. "It's not gonna last. I remember seeing him like this before. Just an adrenaline rush. He'll pass out 'll see," Alfred snickered, his sky blue eyes holding a secret that only he had seen before, and that would no doubt cause confusion later.

"F-Fine, I'll tell ye, I'll tell ye!" The black trump painfully interjected, but his dark eyes darted around his surroundings nervously, "But n-not here. It's not safe."

Matthew sighed and threw a vexed look towards Alfred, "America, take him to one of the rooms. I'll go ahead and pay for it. Oh, and remember to tie him up."

"Aye, aye, Prince!"

"Eh?"

"Never mind..."

* * *

"My name is Felix Florian and I am under the rule of the Eagle kingdom," Felix, the black trump leader, introduced himself.

"Eagle kingdom?" the Prince of Hearts asked incredulously, "You speak lies. There is no such kingdom."

"Officially, ye're correct. Unofficially, well, ye have a great deal of catchin' up to do," Felix drawled in voice that a parent would use for a very slow child, "Ye know how the four kingdoms were originally formed, do ye not?"

"Of course. The land of Cards had been united under one kingdom, but that can get risky. The people began to disagree and rebel against the monarchy, claiming the Royals' rule to be unfair and unjust. The people split into factions: the Royalty faction and the New Kingdom faction. There was battle after battle, massacre after massacre, and eventually both sides had reached a deadly stalemate. Every side would get hurt, but no one ever seemed to win. That was when the land had had enough. The land created itself in human form and interceded the Battle of Lavender. It broke up the kingdom into four smaller ones, giving boundaries to each of the lands. The land's personification chose four brothers, who were of lower class and had remained neutral throughout the entire war, and made them kings of the four kingdoms. The land also separated the powers by adding the Queen, Ace, and Joker. Ever since then, the land's human form has become known as the Guardian of the Four Kingdoms. It is said the Guardian will smite down anyone who attempts to sit on the throne and is not of the original brothers' blood descent," Matthew recited, knowing the story by memory.

"Ye do know what most of people know, but there's somethin' left out of the legend. Always forgotten," The black trump looked at Matthew, something hidden behind his eyes.

"Which is?"

"The four brothers had a sister, unchosen by the Guardian. She was left alone to take care of her sickly mother. Over time, she grew angry, which she had the right to be, that her brothers had left her and her mother to fend for themselves. She started a secret society of people who opposed the four kingdoms, marked only by an Eagle. When her mother finally died from disease, she moved into a place untouched by life and began to learn sorcery with all of the people that had joined her society, and so began the beginnin' of the Eagle kingdom under the colors of black and green."

Matthew remained silent. It was shocking to find a story behind the written words of the creation of the four kingdoms, hidden from view from many generations. He wondered if, perhaps, his father did know but had kept the information from him. Was this what his father was trying to keep from him? If so...what was so terrifying about it that his father would claim it to be too dangerous for him to be a part of?

"Okay. I understand that, but... Why did you want me?" Matthew asked the probably the most prominent thought among the three blondes.

"To be honest," Felix sighed, "I haven't the slightest clue. Her Majesty didn't specify. She only said that ye were vital for the Eagle kingdom comin' into power."

Matthew mentally groaned. The more and more he heard, the more and more he got confused. None of this made any sense! He absolutely _hated_ things not making any sense. It meant that there was an obvious factor right in front of him, but he was too blind to see it. The feeling nagged and twisted in his chest, shouting at him to notice whatever he wasn't seeing. But before he could voice his frustrations, there was a loud sound of clattering hooves on cobblestone.

"What the bloody hell is that?" Arthur asked, frustration evident in his voice.

"I can guess," Matthew sighed and shifted over to window. Lo and behold, he was _right_, "Maple... I was right. My father and his men are searching for me. Oh wow... He even got our Ace out. He must be... really worried." Oh, and here comes the guilt. _Greaaaat_, "Okay, Felix, since you were cooperative, I'll let you go. But if you ever attempt to hurt one of my subjects again, I won't be as merciful. Alfred, untie him, please."

Alfred threw his brother an unsure glance, but did as he was asked (for once). Felix seemed surprised that he was being let go so easily, but didn't voice his thoughts as he left the room. Alfred stared at Matthew, who looked outside with a pensive frown on his face, "Okay, so I'm guessing that made as much sense to you as it did to me, broski?"

Matthew threw a perplexed look at Alfred, "Broski?"

"Broski! You know, the awesome version of bro?" Alfred faltered at Matthew's still perplexed face, "It's... what I called you before you were reborn here."

"I see. Well, yes, I guess I am just as confused as you are. Probably just a little less, since I understand the legends of our people. But... seeing as my father seems very adamant on finding me, I'll have to continue this discussion with you later. I need to see if he knows anything about this Eagle kingdom business."

Arthur nodded, "That should be fine. I'll call for Flying Mint Bunny again to watch over you, just in case. Remember to keep her close, even if she gets annoying and don't worry about other people seeing her. Only people with the Sight can see her, which is why Alfred here thinks we're crazy when I even mention her."

"'Cause you are," Alfred grumbled. Matthew and Arthur chuckled softly at the childish look displayed on the grown man's face.

"Oui, that should work out. I'll contact you through Flying Mint Bunny when I want to meet again," Matthew smiled, the adrenaline from the earlier fight finally seeping away.

* * *

"Matthew!" The prince was tackled by his worried father upon entering the inner chambers of the castle. He awkwardly hugged back, not entirely sure of what to say. The king looked up and released his son, moving back a few paces, "Do you have any idea how _worried_ I was? You could've been _dead_ for all I knew."

"Yes, and I apologize for worrying you so much," Matthew mumbled and got onto the point, "But why I was gone is the main reason I came back. I was attacked by three trumps at Moonwater Inn. Black trumps, who claimed to be of the Eagle kingdom."

His father froze and his soft green eyes turned into a poisonous hue, staring into Matthew's violet-blue ones, "Did they get away? Did they see your eyes and retreat?"

"Well, two got away, but-" Matthew's father didn't let him finish and grabbed his wrist. He rushed the boy to the stables and quickly ordered one of the maids to bring Matthew's cloak and pack some clothes, food, and water. Matthew could only watch in confusion as his father rushed his horse, Rain, out of her stall. Rain was an Arabian horse, her body a deep, almost purple, midnight black. Her face was delicately sculpted and her slender legs were obviously built for speed.

The king quickly put the saddle on the horse and strapped the girth tightly. He carefully put the bag that the maid had packed behind the saddle and put the bridle onto Rain's heart-shaped head. He looked back at Matthew, who now wore his cloak, "Get on Rain. Take the old forest path to the kingdom of Spades and travel to the town of Midnight. Ask for someone by the name of Tristan Hughes."

"But why, Father?"

"The Queen of the Eagle kingdom has seen your eyes. She's seen you. Now that she knows that, she can track you down. She'll probably storm the castle tonight, but you have to be gone by then. You'll need to be safely out of here," His father explained in a rush.

"But Father, if that's true, I can help fight-"

"No. Absolutely not. If she got a hold of you..." The king trailed off and helped Matthew onto his horse, "I'll send Kayla Beaumont in three days to give you news of the fight."

Matthew's eyes widened in shock and grabbed hold of the reins, "But Kayla is the Joker! Why would you send her?"

"Now that Queen Gloriana D'eu knows that you have the violet-blue eyes, she'll start a war to get you. It's time for the Joker to be deployed to keep you safe. She'll be able to contact the other Jokers from Midnight to tell the news. I love you, son. Now, go!" He whipped the rear of the horse, causing Rain to burst into a gallop.

Matthew gripped the sides of his horse with his legs so he wouldn't fall. Rain's legs thumped against the dirt road that lead to the forest like a steady drum beat. He couldn't believe that this was happening and his mind was having trouble coping with it. He was running, even though his heart told himself to stay. But from all the books he had read, he knew that even if he wanted to stay, the plot would come to bite his backside if really did. He just had to make it to the forest, camp for the night, and then make it to Midnight.

A thought almost made him stop. What about Alfred and Arthur? Matthew sighed. Once Flying Mint Bunny had caught up with him, he could get her to let them know what was happening, but he couldn't go back to the town. Not after what his father had told him.

He had a feeling that his life would never be the same after this.

* * *

"_Do~ A Doitsu~ A female Doitsu~_

_Re~ A golden ray of sun!_

_Mi~ A name I call myself~_

_Fa~ Farfalle, a type of pasta!_

_So~ Soup pasta!_

_La~ La bella donna!_

_Ti~ A sucky English drink!_

_And we're back to d_-" A certain Italian stopped his singing abruptly upon the sight of crinkled notebook paper. He swooped down on the page and viewed the written words with his usual, closed eyes (don't ask how he sees like that. NO ONE KNOWS!). He tilted his head sideways and furrowed his eyebrows, "Ve~ this looks like Latin! Britain must've left it at the world meeting! Let's see... 'Transport to the Land of Cards.' What does that mean? VEEEE! ROMANO!"

"WHAT DO YOU WANT, VENEZIANO?" Romano growled, angered that his younger brother had interrupted him while he was eating his tomatoes. He hated being interrupted while eating his tomatoes.

"Ve~ I think I found one of Britain's notes. It's in Latin, but when I translate it, it doesn't make any sense. It says: **Transfer ad terram of pecto.**" The minute northern Italy had uttered the words, a light swirled around the brothers. Romano opened his mouth to yell, but the light seemed to have literally taken his breath away. The Italian brothers both took on a terrified expression as they were pulled into a black. The feeling of the black world was quite numb, but they had little time to think about as they were dumped onto a forest floor...

"WHAT THE CRAPOLA JUST HAPPENED?!"


	5. The Dream Woman

**Author's Note:** *whistles* Wow, this chapter is weird. Lots of plot hints, random rhymes, and some writer's blocks. So much and so little happens in this chapter, if you get my meaning. But it also makes me sad when I find people not reading my notes. :( I give my time to explain all the possible questions, but someone always ASKS WHAT I ALREADY EXPLAINED! Ahem, sorry... It just upsets me. Anyway, please enjoy and point out any errors I make! SAPPHIRE OUT!

**Triad Skyline:** Heh, IKR? XD I have a feeling Britain will get mad later because a nation, with practically no magical ability, could do something he thought only he could do. XDDD Thanks so much!

**Morina Setterwind:** Thanks! AND CANADA IS YOUR FAVORITE CHARACTER TOO?! MAPLE YEAH! :'D It always makes me so upset because of the lack of cardverse stories with Matthew starring in it!

**Warning: **Mild language, OCs, or possible genderbends will be used! Don't like, please move along and don't read~

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Hetalia! If I did, I probably wouldn't be writing this. xD

**Chapter Five: The Dream Woman**

Matthew's face felt awkward from the dirt and sweat mixed together in a clumps on his face. His lungs burned for oxygen and his legs were sore from holding onto Rain for so long. He would have to make camp soon. Soon translating to _now_. He was just pulling Rain into a slow trot when he heard a few voices in the distance...

"...read that thing from Britain!"

"Don't blame it on me, ve~ I thought you would help me translate it!"

Matthew pulled his horse to a stop in front of two men. It was clearly obvious that they were twins, both of them having auburn hair, a strange curl, and the same facial structure. What set them apart were the expressions. One seemed to be fuming with rage, while the other had slight baby fat around the cheeks, and looked to be quite carefree.

The moment Rain stopped, they both looked up at Matthew. Their eyes widened in complete, pure shock. Romano dropped the tomato that he had still had in his hands and Italy's eyes opened, which was a very rare thing to see.

"E-Excuse me, eh... But do you mind if I camp here tonight?"

"VEEEEEE! IT'S A GHOST! ROMANO, HELP ME!" Italy screamed and jumped behind his brother.

"IT'S OKAY, VENEZIANO! BACK AWAY, DEMON! YOU WILL NOT HARM US! WE ARE THE ALMIGHTY ITALIES!"

"Wait a minute..." Matthew murmured, the name striking a small cord in his memories, "Did you say Italies? You wouldn't happen to be friends of America and Britain, then, would you?" He remembered vaguely that when America was explaining his death, he had said that 'Italy' was the one resetting the timeline.

Matthew jumped off Rain and gave the two a small smile, "Relax, friends. I am not a ghost, nor am I a demon. Although I'm not entirely sure how it works out, I've simply been reborn here. At least, that's what Britain and America tell me."

"R-Reborn?" Italy murmured, his lithe body still shaking from fear.

"So it's those idiotas' fault that we're here! They must've known that Veneziano would read that note!" Romano shouted in accusation, "Those son-"

Italy had picked up the fallen tomato and stuffed it in his brother's mouth, "Language, fratello!"

Romano spat the dirty, red fruit out, "I'll use whatever language I want!"

"E-Excuse me," Matthew coughed awkwardly, gaining the Italian brothers' attention once more, "I have to run from town. If you could go back on the path to town and give America and Britain a message, I would be most grateful. I don't have the slightest clue when Flying Mint Bunny will be able to catch up with me."

"Ve~ Sure thing!" Italy agreed instantly, even though his brother still glared at Matthew with distrust evident in his hazel eyes.

"Well, it's a bit long, so pay attention."

* * *

"Hey, British dude?" America asked, hands behind his head as he rested on the bed in Moonwater Inn.

"What is it, wanker? I'm trying to sleep!" Britain snapped, his body turned away from the loud American.

"Do you think... that legend stuff Mattie was talking about was real? Do you think this world has a personification? A person like us?" Alfred asked with his usual curiosity lacing his voice. Britain was silent for a few moments, considering and turning over his answer inside his head.

"I think... It's mostly useless superstition, but I suppose it's a possibility," Britain replied thoughtfully before adding, "Now go to sleep!"

The corners of Alfred's lips quirked upwards in a smile as he chuckled, "'Kay. Goodnight, Iggy!"

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!"

_He walked in a snow-covered world. But, oddly enough, he wasn't cold. Numbness swept over his body and embraced him like a soft blanket. His blue eyes searched the glistening landscape for any signs of life, but found none. All around him were dead trees that waved in the wind as if to say, "We have a tale! You just need to listen closely!" But for the life of him, he couldn't decipher the story._

_He trudged through the thick snow as if his legs were made of lead. He had trouble picking up his feet to even take another step, which he found odd. He normally wouldn't have this much trouble simply walking. He stopped in his trek to look upwards at the grey sky and watch the snowflakes drift towards the hills, only to disappear as they kissed the ground._

_"Aren't you cold?" A melodious voice inquired. He whipped his body around to face a thin woman. The sun, which was dressed in the grey clouds, shone its dull light on her face. It was pale and well-defined, two pooling orbs of brown staring out at him. Long, brunette hair fell in waves on her shoulders, the rest of her body cloaked in a white gown._

_"What?" He asked. Well, meant to ask. His mouth opened and moved, but not a single sound passed his lips._

_"Aren't you cold?" She repeated, "You must be." As soon as the woman had uttered the question, the numbness left him and his body shivered in the freezing air. He pulled his bomber jacket tighter around himself to keep the warmth from escaping._

_"H-How did you do that?" His teeth chattered, but once again, no sound emitted from his throat._

_The woman's face turned towards the sun as a thoughtful look passed over her features, "There's going to be a battle soon."_

_"A battle?" Alfred mouthed with a frown._

_"A long battle. Longer and bloodier than the last. The white king will raise his sword. Oh, how much he will be adored. But the Guardian must awake, painful sacrifices it will take, to gain the rumored reward. Remember closely, young one, for if you fall from the path, there'll be no coming back. Only one can win this deadly attack, but a choice can make all the difference. The curse, cloaked in the colors of violet and blue, cannot meet its destiny overdue. For if it does, and you falter from the path, you'll lose him. He'll lose his love, and even that white dove, will not live to see the light of day. Find him and his pet, but do not stray from the task, lest you do not mind drinking from the poisonous flask."_

Alfred shot up in his bed. His eyes darted around the room, searching for anything out of the ordinary. Once he realized he was fine, he let his head drop like a weight on his pillow. That was a _weird_ dream. Just what was that woman rambling on about? Something about a battle and not leaving a path...

He continued to think about the meaning of the dream, before the sound of clattering hooves erupted into the air. Alfred jumped up and looked at the window to try and find what was making the loud sound. He found soldiers, trumps no less, that matched the description of the ones he had encountered earlier. They had weapons and charged towards the castle, as if prepared to battle.

The American ran over to Britain and shook his sleeping form, "Arthur! Wake up! _Now_!"

Britain groaned and shifted, letting out a hiss of words, "What. Is. It?"

"More black trumps are charging towards the castle! I think they're going to attack!" Britain shot up at that, his sleepy stupor now wiped from his mind. He threw his sheets to the side and strode over to the window, met by the sight that Alfred had described.

"Bloody hell..." Britain cursed, "You're right. We're going to have to warn Matthew. And quickly." America nodded his agreement and slipped Texas onto his face. He shrugged his bomber jacket on and looked at the Brit with determination.

"Let's go!"

* * *

The walls of the castle shook from another attack from the Eagle army. The kingdom had excelled in sorcery, and the walls of the castle were simply no match for such fierce magic. The crisp scent of smoke drifted into the king's nose, making him wince at the prospect of a fire.

"Sire, sire!" The Ace of Hearts, Jack MacArthur, shouted as he approached the king, "The army has set fire to the gates. It's... _burning_ through the metal! The castle has been breeched!"

The king cursed under his breath, "Okay, we'll have to-"

"_My, my~_" A silky voice whispered into the room, "_The King of Hearts seems to be having a hard time keeping my men away~_"

"Gloriana! Show yourself!" The king growled, causing the Ace to stiffen and unsheathe his blade.

"_That's Queen Gloriana D'eu to you, but I'll overlook it for now~ I do need you, after all,_" She laughed, "_And no, I don't think I will come out. I refuse to show myself to someone as low and dirtied by the brothers' blood line such as yourself. Now, where is he?_"

"I don't know who you're talking about."

"_You know who I mean!_" She screamed, making the walls shake, "_Your son. The bearer of the violet-blue eyes. The fulfillment of that crackpot fool's prophecy._"

"Oh, him? He's gone to a place where you'll never be able to find him. Face it, Gloriana. You've lost," The king yelled in response. The sound of hysterical laughter filled the room, the kind of laughter that made your blood run cold. Silver strings slithered down the walls of the castle and reached out to touch not only the king, but also the Ace.

"_Oh, I haven't lost at all._"

* * *

An immense fire flickered in front of both Alfred's and Arthur's eyes. Blood had drained from their faces, along with all the hope they had.

"I... was too late," Alfred shouted in anger, "I WAS TOO LATE _AGAIN_!"

"It's okay, Alfred! Maybe Matthew and his father got away before the castle was set fire!" Arthur suggested, but he wasn't sure if he believed it himself. He was prepared for Alfred to shout something as a comeback, but a girl bursting from the flames silenced the American. She looked around fourteen, maybe fifteen-years-old. Her blonde hair fell in waves on her shoulders, the rest of her body cloaked in a red and white gown. A heart stood out on the middle of the gown, an obvious statement of whatever position she held in the Heart kingdom. She rode on a horse which had a body of white, but was splattered by the colors of brown.

"Excuse me!" Arthur shouted at an attempt to get her attention. The girl pulled the paint horse to a stop, looking worriedly around Arthur. The Brit quickly continued, "I'm sorry, but did the Royals get out safely? We're friends of the prince."

A look of realization dawned upon the girl and a sudden aura of trust appeared, "Follow me. If you lose me, just follow down the path and go by J.J.'s hoof prints." The horse, now dubbed as J.J., burst into a gallop. The two blondes ran after the girl, a new hope coursing through their veins.

* * *

Matthew slept a dreamless sleep for the very first time in many weeks. Fire licked at the air, giving the prince a sense of warmth in the cold environment. Rain was tethered to a nearby tree and her muzzle picked at the small amount of grass around her.

Just as the sun began to peek above the horizon, the sound of pounding hooves woke Matthew up. He sat up with frantic eyes to find a girl pulling her horse to a stop. He nearly stopped breathing at the way the sun appeared to glow around her head like a halo. Her eyes were a pale blue, almost grey, and held a hidden knowledge behind them.

"MATTIE!"

"Alfred?" Matthew said in unbelief, surprised to find Alfred trailing behind the girl. The large American instantly tackled the smaller prince, practically crushing him with a hug, "A-Alfred, you're c-crushing my r-ribs!"

"Oh, sorry, broski!" Alfred apologized and released Matthew, "I just thought you were dead and I had failed again, but you're alive so it's okay now!"

"You thought I was _dead_?"

"Alfred, you should calm down..." Arthur sighed, his eyebrow twitching.

"I can explain all of this to you, Your Highness," The girl finally explained and dismounted her horse, "After all, that is what I came here to do."

"You must be Kayla Beaumont, then," Matthew stood up and brushed the dirt off his clothes, "Though, you seem a little young to be a Joker."

"I get that a lot," Kayla muttered, almost becoming shy at the mention of her age, "But in any case, yes, I am the Joker. I was sent from the castle earlier due to the unexpected events. Queen Gloriana's forces overwhelmed our own and breeched the castle gates. She has kidnapped the Ace of Hearts and your father the king."

"What?!" Matthew exclaimed in shock.

* * *

"Ve..."

"HOW DID WE GET LOST?" Romano said in frustration before glaring at his twin, "Oh, I remember, I had to chase after you since you decided to follow a _butterfly_."

An airheaded smile spread across Italy's face, "Ve~ It was a pretty butterfly! It reminded me of pasta!"

"HOW DOES A BUTTERFLY REMIND YOU OF PASTA?"


	6. The Prophecy

**Author's Note:** Hello everyone! :D Sorry for posting late, my birthday is literally today, so I've been busy. Anyway, this chapter is crazy! There are some plot holes, but don't worry, I plan to explain those later! I laughed at the prophecy part, because I think I said something really obvious that will explain plot later. XDDD We also get to meet Tristan! I'm basing his looks off of the vampire from the book called Grey Eyes. Oh... Tristan... :3 DON'T ASK ABOUT THE BARTENDER ! I ALWAYS IMAGINE BARTENDERS HAVING HANDLEBAR MUSTACHES! XD

**Triad Skyline:** Who knows? It is Italy we're talking about... XD Funny you ask that, I actually explain that in this chapter! Thankies! c:

**Chapter Six: The Prophecy**

"My father... has been kidnapped?" Matthew asked in shock.

"I am afraid so," Kayla affirmed, "But even if you want to go after him, you cannot. You _must_ continue on to Midnight for protection. The best trumps have been put to work for finding your father and the Ace."

"Why?! Why can't I help? Why do I even _need_ protection? I'm the Prince of Hearts! I am the heir to the throne and have been trained as such! I do not need protection!" Mathew snapped and clenched his fists. Kayla shrunk at being yelled at, but didn't waver. She suddenly flew up into the air as if it were nothing and and came face to face with the prince. He swallowed nervously at the fierce glare she stared into him.

"First things first, never yell at me. It gives me panic attacks. Secondly, _sire_, please refrain from acting as if you are a super human and have no weaknesses whatsoever. As a Joker, you should know you hold no power over me and your '_I'm actually strong_' rants are very childish and _extremely_ annoying. I can say that freely without being thrown into jail," The female Joker backed off and hovered in mid-air, lounging on an imaginary recliner, "'Cause no matter how strong you think you are, you won't be able to face Gloriana - not yet anyway."

Coming between an in shock Alfred, who was amazed that the girl was _flying_, and an upset Matthew, Arthur looked up at Kayla, "Excuse me, Miss Beaumont, but I think one of Matthew's questions does deserve answering. Why does he need protection from this Gloriana? What would she want with him?"

"Oh. _Oh_. You mean... the king didn't explain the prophecy already?" At the blank looks she received, Kayla let out an almost inaudible sigh, "Wow, he let you grow up all these years without telling you the truth of your future. I suppose, though, it's understandable, but still..."

"What prophecy?" Matthew muttered, cooling down a little.

"I assume you have heard of Nicodemus?"

"Oui, I've heard of him," The prince nodded, "He was a famous fortune teller, correct?"

"Correct. Well, after the kingdoms were originally formed, the brothers became worried that their sister would disrupt the newfound peace. They called upon Nicodemus to find out if the sister would actually ever try anything. The prophecy goes as follows: '_The sister will not change in her lifetime. However, her descendant shall make a move against the peace. But never should you fear, for a boy will be born to the royal family of Hearts. He will be bearing a curse, which will only be marked by originally blue eyes that have been mixed with violet. He will bring the downfall of the Eagle kingdom when it has reached its height of power. But by the time that eternal peace has been reached, the curse will have completely taken over. Once the boy's eyes have turned completely violet, his mortal time in this world will have ended_.'"

There was an eerie silence after the final word of explanation had been spoken. Matthew and Arthur both paled in realization, while a look of anger came over Alfred. The American glared fiercely at the Joker, "So Matthew is going to save the world, only to die immediately afterwards?"

"I'm sorry," Kayla apologized, genuinely looking as if she pitied Matthew, "But... yes. I'm so, so sorry."

"Well then," Three faces turned towards Matthew, whose voice had begun to waver, "Better make use of the time I have left."

"You don't have to put up with this Matthew! Just because someone predicted you would save the world, doesn't mean you have to go through with it!" Alfred spoke with a slight hint of desperation. He knew Matthew. Although his brother would never mention it, Matthew had a hero complex like him. Yes, he would admit it only to himself, but Alfred did know of his hero complex. But that's not the point. Knowing Matthew, kind and selfless Matthew, he knew that even if it meant killing himself in the process, he would do it. Anything to save another life. But Alfred didn't want to go through that again.

Matthew looked at his desperate brother from the corner of his cursed, violet-blue eyes, "You're right, I don't have to do it. I realize, Alfred, that you are not from this world, so you may not weigh the people's lives in the same way as your own. But as a Prince, even if this prophecy never existed, I feel obliged to help my people. If I don't... many others will die."

"You know I didn't mean that!" Alfred protested indignantly, flinching at the harsh words, "I'm just worried about you!"

"Then don't worry," A smile pulled Matthew's lips upward, "I'll be fine, brother."

The negative emotions melted away slightly, but only slightly. Matthew turned back to Kayla, light conversation about getting to Midnight passing between them.

"_The curse, cloaked in the colors of violet and blue, cannot meet its destiny overdue. For if it does, and you falter from the path, you'll lose him_."

The words of his dream rang in Alfred's head. That strange woman from his dream... had predicted the curse! Instead of just a random jumble of words, Alfred viewed the words a new sense of clarity. But... just how much of the prediction was going to come true? And who was that woman?

* * *

"Ugh... We've been walking in circles for hours..." Romano moaned.

"Ve... I want my pasta..." Italy whined with sagged shoulders.

"We're never getting out of this stupid fore-" The older twin cut himself off at the sight of extra bright light. He ran towards it, bursting out of the forest. He did an uncharacteristic fist pump and preceded to kiss the ground, "YES! PRAISE THE TOMATO GOD! WE'RE OUT!"

"Uh... Ve.. Romano..." Italy pointed straight forward. Romano looked to where his brother pointed and immediately felt the happiness drain from him. They had simply found a clearing in the trees, for the cursed forest surrounded the large field.

"SON OF A PIZZA!"

* * *

The four group members had finally reached the town of Midnight, after some extensive riding. Alfred had rode with Matthew and Arthur with Kayla. It hadn't gone too well, as you may have thought. Apparently it had been a while since Alfred had ridden a horse, so he had almost fallen off Rain several times...

The houses were jumbled together and all of them were similar colors. Some were shades of indigo, while others were shades of purple or a dark blue. Even the fair-skinned people wore the the same dyes of their houses. The group stood out like a sore thumb with the whites, pinks, and reds of the Heart kingdom. A couple of the villagers even gave them weird looks before continuing their daily lives.

"Jeeze... I feel like we're the black sheep here," Alfred muttered and shoved his fingers in the pockets of his bomber jacket.

"It's normal. Most people don't travel to the other kingdoms unless on official business," Matthew explained before biting his lip, "My problem right now, though, is how to find this Tristan Hughes my father wanted me to meet up with."

"You could always try going to a bar," Alfred suggested, "People at a bar always have a way of knowing everyone else." The group stared in mild shock at Alfred, their mouths hanging. "What?" He said indignantly.

"It's just..." Matthew began.

"That's a really..." Arthur sidestepped awkwardly.

"...Good idea," They chorused at the same time.

"And what's so surprising about that?!" Alfred narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms.

"You're a bloody wanker. You _never_ have good ideas," Britain said plainly.

"HEY! I HAVE GOOD IDEAS! I CAME UP WITH A WAY TO MAKE THE FIRST AIRPLANE _AND_ THE LIGHTBULB!"

"Technically, your people came up with those ideas, not you," Arthur drawled in voice one would use for a slow child.

"Well, that's... I mean, I came up with... No, no, but-"

"You are speechless!" Kayla snickered, "Oh, I am loving this!"

Alfred scrunched his nose childishly and glared at fourteen-year-old girl, "Oh, because I'm sure you come up with brilliant ideas _all the time_. I'm old enough to be your great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather!"

"I'm a Joker," Kayla replied as if it explained everything, "It's my duty in life to think creatively to maintain the peace, while at the same time remaining neutral. Even if my loyalties lies with the Heart kingdom, I cannot choose sides in war that involves my kingdom. I have to remain neutral. Even if you're older than you look like you're obviously implying, I'd love to see you attempt to do what a Joker does every time war is declared."

"You little-"

"Okay then!" Matthew interrupted abruptly, "Let's go ahead and see if we can find anything out at the local bar!" Alfred pressed his lips into a thin line to keep the words he had wanted to say quiet. He glared at Kayla, who simply stared back with wide, innocent pale blue eyes. This meant _war_, the American thought bitterly.

Matthew and Arthur got in between the two newly declared rivals, both throwing each other weary looks. They asked around a bit about finding the local bar and eventually heard of a decent one known as the Cerulean Bar. People from the Spades kingdom had a habit of naming things after colors, Matthew had quickly explained.

Matthew swung the, ironically, cerulean door open and lead the quartet into the bar. The inside bustled with life and the stench of alcohol. Men dressed in indigos and purples laughed lightheartedly and held their drinks in the air. The group passed the small, wooden tables that peppered across the room and approached the bar, where the bartender carefully wiped the wooden surface.

"Excuse me, sir?" Matthew asked politely. The man looked up, the faint light of candles reflected off the man's bald head. A proper handlebar mustache sat upon the bartender's lip and twitched slightly. Matthew was glad his cowl covered his face, so that the uncomfortableness he felt wouldn't be visible.

"How can I help you?" The bartender spoke in a gruff voice.

"We're looking for man by the name of Tristan Hughes. Do you know where we can find him?"

The bartender raised a curious eyebrow and diverted his attention to a particular table, "Hey, Tristan! You got a couple of people looking for you." A man in the far corner looked up from taking a sip of beer and reading a leather-bound book. He scanned the group over with critical eyes and narrowed the dark orbs on Matthew's face which was dressed in shadows. The pair of eyes flicked to the Heart-shaped clasp, causing a look of realization to dawn on him. He shut a book with a _fwap!_ and stood up. As he passed the group, he crisply whispered, "Follow me." The quartet looked at each other uncertainly, but followed after the man.

They were quietly lead through a door into the hidden back of the bar. Tristan sat down, an animal that resembled a miniature polar bear beside him, "You can relax now, Your Highness. I am no enemy of yours."

Matthew was slightly surprised, but at the same time he wasn't. He removed his cowl and peered at the man before him, "Then you really are Tristan Hughes. My father sent me to find you."

"I know. The minute I heard about his and the Ace's capture, I knew it would be only a short time before you arrived. Your father knew all of this would happen. He wanted me to keep you in hiding and train you for your battle against Gloriana."

"Train me?" Matthew frowned, "Pardon me Mr. Hughes, but I've been in combat training with the Ace since I was a mere child. What else is there that you can teach me?"

Tristan let out a hearty laugh, "You'll need more than sword training to defeat Gloriana. You'll have to have magical training as well."

"Magical training?"

"Yes, fierce magical training. To beat a sorceress like Gloriana, you'll have to master fire, earth, nature, air, ice, dark, light, and storm magic. You'll have to be the first person to master every type of magic," Tristan further explained.

"Excuse me, Mr. Hughes," Arthur frowned in slight confusion, "Sorry, but this is my area of expertise. You've left out a certain type of magic."

Tristan raised a slender, black eyebrow, "I don't believe I did, but what is it?"

"Black Magic. Sometimes called Necromancy," Arthur replied. Of course, out of all the types, that was the one he was most familiar with. After all, Black Magic had been in his family for generations.

"You must be from a faraway land, Mr...?"

"Kirkland. Arthur Kirkland."

"Well, Mr. Kirkland," Tristan smiled a lopsided smile, "You must be from a faraway land, for I have never heard of Necromancy."

"I guess you could say that," Arthur grinned sheepishly and scratched the back of his head, "Necromancy is death magic. It deals with the undead and so much more. I'm honestly surprised you're unaware of it, since it has such a infamous history. Many people where I come from speak ill words against it, but all of it is untrue."

Tristan hummed in understanding, "I must say, you have my curiosity piqued. You'll have to show me this magic and maybe even teach Matthew here." During their conversing, the bear-like creature beside Tristan had sleepily opened its eyes. It waddled over to Matthew and pawed at his legs.

"Who are you?" It muttered with sleep lacing its voice.

Matthew blinked in surprise and knelt down to the miniature bear's height. "I'm Matthew," He looked at Tristan with a questioning glance, "He's an ice familiar, isn't he?"

"Correct. I found him alone on the streets. He was practically starving, so I took him in. He doesn't seem to like me, so I was going to take him to the local wizard community to bond him with a wizard. But he seems to have already bonded with a certain someone in this room..." Tristan explained.

"Me?" Matthew looked at the familiar with surprise evident in his eyes, "You've bonded with me?"

The familiar plopped down on his rump and stared up at the prince, "I like you. I'm Kumajiro."


	7. Nightmares that Wipe Away the Times

**Author's Note:** Herro! This isn't my best chapter, nor is it my longest, but I'm just trying to fill the plots holes. I'm so happy! A few days ago I figured out the complete plot line for this story, which will take many chapters to happen... But you guys are going to hate me. Seriously. It's really mean. XD I largely hint at it in this chapter, and I wonder if you'll be able to spot it! Anyway, remember to point out any errors I make and review as always! SAPPHIRE OUT!

**Awesome11: **Trololol. I literally just made that up so there would be no cursing in this story. XD BUT ROMANO MAKES IT EXTREMELY DIFFICULT!

**esdertytg:** XP I thought it was about time to introduce Kumawaru... or is it Kumajichi? AH, SCREW IT! Kuma sounds fine. XD

**Warning: **Mild language, OCs, or possible genderbends will be used! Don't like, please move along and don't read~

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Hetalia! If I did, I probably wouldn't be writing this. xD

**Chapter Seven: Nightmares that Wipe Away the Times**

_Bum-buh-bum_

_His heart was beating at an impossible rate as he hugged his knees to his chest. Adrenaline and fear coursed through his veins, causing his breaths to become labored and his entire body to shake. He was petrified. What if __**it**__ saw him?_

_Bum-buh-bum_

_Bum-buh-bum_

_God, his heart was beating so loud! Shouldn't the creature be able to hear it?_

_Bum-buh-bum_

_He just..._

_Bum-buh-bum_

_Needed..._

_Bum-buh-bum_

_To calm down..._

_Screech!_

_He almost screamed at the sound of the door creaking open. He clenched his eyes shut. The doors of the wardrobe he had hidden himself in were closed, but who knew how long that would last. He pressed himself a little further against the back of the wardrobe as if it would bring him some kind of invisibility. Which, in his case, it probably could if he tried hard enough._

_Harsh breathing reached his ears, making the nation pale. Please, don't let the creature figure out where he was... He didn't want to die..._

_The doors opened, revealing the creature he had been so desperately trying to hide from. He opened his mouth to scream as the creature reached out and-_

"Matthew!"

Matthew's eyelids shot open at the sound of his name being yelled, his chest heaving. Alfred was at his bedside, staring down at him with worried, sky blue orbs. The prince let out a relieved sigh. It had just been another nightmare...

"Are you okay?" Alfred asked. Matthew gave a weary nod and sat up in the bed Tristan had let him use. These nightmares that were plaguing him were getting out of hand. Maple, his hands were still shaking...

"I-It was just another nightmare," Matthew explained.

"A nightmare... of _that_ time?"

"Yes," Matthew's eyes drooped to his sheets, "I've been having nightmares of the mansion for weeks. They all started the day I met Arthur in the marketplace." His brother hummed in understanding and sat on the edge of the bed. He had shed his other clothing and only wore a simple, white button-up shirt and khaki pants.

"I had the same nightmares after we escaped. I think everyone did. Eventually, the memories fade, though they're never forgotten. Once that happens, the nightmares become few. You just need to hold on," said Alfred, who sifted a hand through his wheat blonde hair, "But seeing as you don't have any memories of your time as a nation, that might, unfortunately, take a while. You'll make it, though."

Matthew nodded his understanding and the brothers sat in companionable silence for a few minutes. To change the subject, Alfred spoke again, "You know, I never asked, but what's your mom and dad like? People like me and Arthur... don't really have parents."

"Well, my father is really goofy, kind, and wise," Matthew smiled softly, "He was always there for me. He never let me outside of the castle, though, and I began to despise him for it. But now that I see why, I just want to apologize. It makes it even worse that I'm unable to do it. And my mother... Well, she was the most wonderful woman you could ever meet. She was quiet and mild-mannered and had the most amazing voice. She was intelligent and always read me her favorite books."

"How did she die?" America asked, noticing how Matthew kept using the word 'was.'

Matthew frowned, as if he was trying to remember something. He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, "You know... Now that I think about it, I don't remember how she died. Maple... Why don't I remember? Why don't I remember how my own mother died?"

Alfred's face displayed his confusion and worry as he stared at his brother, "Maybe... you were just too young to remember?"

"It couldn't be that... I remember being with her when I was ten-years-old. I _should_ remember..." The prince was freaking out. How could he not remember? Before he could reach an answer, however, Tristan poked his head into the room.

"Oh, good! You're already awake!" Tristan beamed his pearly white teeth at the two men, "It's time to start your training!"

"Training?" They both said incredulously.

"It's two o' clock in the morning!" Matthew exclaimed in disbelief.

"Perfect time to learn magic! Go ahead and wake Kumajiro up, but don't ask why!"

* * *

Tristan, Matthew, and Alfred stood in a large, open field. Arthur and Kayla had still been resting at Tristan's house when they had left. Stars danced across the sky with shining streamers following behind them. The moon sat in the indigo sky like a proud, ancient king who watched over those below. It was all so quiet and tranquil. Fireflies even flew through the crisp, cold air. The only thing to interrupt the silence was song of a nightingale, but the song only added to the tranquility and gave all who listened a sense of peace. Kumajiro opened his mouth and yawned, ignorant to the wonder around him with his white form in Matthew's arms, "Who are you?"

"I'm Matthew," The blonde sighed, a bit irritated. Ever since the familiar had bonded with him, he had been forgetting his name. It was as if it was beyond the bear's capacity to remember his name! Honestly, how hard was it to remember who the prince was?

"Now since you've bonded with an ice familiar, it is quite clear that your magical affinity will be ice magic," Tristan lectured as he paced across the field, "So I thought we would start with the easiest thing for you. Today, we will be learning how to manipulate the moisture in plants, removing it, changing the temperature to the point of freezing, and manipulating the frozen moisture. Like so." He opened his calloused palms in the direction of the yellowing grass that danced beneath his feet and frowned in concentration. The grass shriveled as water shot out of it, only to transform into ice shards. The ice shards went out in opposite directions and melted away as they kissed the ground. Matthew's eyes widened a fraction at the sight. How was he supposed to do that?

"Ice magic is a simple thing to those who have been chosen for it. My affinity, however, is storm magic so I have difficulty performing even the simplest moves. It will be much easier for you, so I'd like to challenge you. Keep your arms around Kuma like they are now and do not move them. Think deeper about the moisture. Imagine it moving out of the plant and doing exactly as I did."

Matthew was uncertain that this would work, but did not want to be rude and nodded. He looked down at the grass and imagined the water coursing through tiny, little veins throughout it. The temperature suddenly dropped drastically to the point of where his breath could be seen. Water came out of the plant, but it wasn't a few droplets like Tristan's had been. A mass of water was sucked from all of the grass in a two-yard-radius around him and froze as it hovered.

"Excellent! Outstanding!" Tristan complemented in a stunned voice, "Now release the ice shards like I demonstrated!"

Matthew nodded and attempted to do so, but instead of the ice being evaporated, it was dispersed over the field and froze over the grass. He tried to stop it, but it kept on freezing and freezing. He gasped as energy was quickly sapped from him and made his vision grow hazy. He wavered in his spot, feeling as if he was about to collapse.

"Control it, Matthew! You have to stop it!" Tristan shouted above the blonde's thoughts.

But the thing was, he couldn't.

Matthew fell to his knees, barely hearing his brother shout out his name. There were curses, flashes of magic, and the warmth of a hand touching his arm. He moaned and fell to his side, a furry form leaving his arms to growl fiercely at a figure. But he had little time to wonder about the "how"s and "why"s as he faded gently into black.

* * *

"You went out, in the middle of the night, to teach him magic?" A familiar, accented voice shouted, "Just how thick _are_ you?"

"Hey, don't insult my teaching style!" Another voice responded, "I was evaluating what we needed to work on and obviously the first thing has to be control."

"_Obviously_, wanker!"

Matthew groaned as his eyes fluttered open and took in the sight of a squabbling Arthur and Tristan. Emerald and brown eyes flicked towards him, relief evident on their faces. The prince sighed and rubbed at his eyes, "What happened...? The last thing I remember was actually freezing the water from the plants..."

"You lost control," Tristan explained, "It was too much for you to handle. You began freezing everything, no matter how much you tried to stop it. I tried to stop it with my magic, but Kumajiro wouldn't let me. By that time you were unconscious and Kumajiro finally turned to you. He put his paw on you, and I don't know how, but all of the frozen water evaporated. Strangest thing I had ever seen."

Matthew frowned in confusion and turned his eyes to the sleeping form of the ice familiar beside him, "He... saved me?"

"Indeed," Tristan affirmed, "He hasn't left your side since."

"But that aside," Arthur chimed in with an irritated voice, "How are you feeling? Alfred went out to the market and Kayla is outside. She claims to be contacting the other Jokers, but it just looks like murmuring to herself to me."

"I'm fine," He laughed, "I just hope Alfred won't cause too much trouble at the market."

* * *

"What the hamburger is a drawlingth?" Alfred asked a salesclerk rather loudly. The salesclerk looked at him strangely before getting distracted by another customer. Alfred muttered something under his breath and looked at the other booths. How was he suppose to buy things if he hadn't the slightest clue of what everything was?

"Because of you, we're now lost! What're we going to do now?" A voice yelled among the crowd.

"Veeee... Don't yell at me, Roma..."

"It's Romano, idiota!"

"Italy? Romano?" America called out incredulously.

The twins looked towards America, Italy waving excitedly, "AMERICA! THANK THE PASTA WE FOUND YOU!"


	8. The Darkness that Binds

**Author's Note:** I am SO sorry I didn't post last week. :( PLEASE FORGIVE ME! I know it's not a good excuse, but I had horrible writer's blocks with this chapter. I've never had worse. My ideas just... wouldn't come. I didn't think it would be fair to you guys to put out something short and horrible, simply because I couldn't think of anything better. I hope you guys will forgive me. On a better note, we finally get some fighting scenes and less angsty America. YAAAAY. And an introduction of a character I wasn't planning on introducing, but... it worked out well. I plan on answering the plot hole that everyone seemed to miss next chapter, which is... Where's Flying Mint Bunny? XD Seriously. No one wondered that? Shame! XD Anyway, point out any mistakes I make so I can correct them and please enjoy! SAPPHIRE OUT!

**Awesome11:** I know. Their brotherly love is adorable. *sniffs dramatically* AND YEAH! Oh man, you're going to love the ice magic he can do! Seriously. He's so boss in this chapter.

**Hetalia-FACE-Fangirl:** First off, I absolutely adore your new username! Secondly, thank you so much! You're so awesome - like Prussia. ;D

**Warning:** Mild language, OCs, or possible genderbends will be used! Don't like, please move along and don't read~

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Hetalia! If I did, I probably wouldn't be writing this. xD

**Chapter Eight: The Darkness that Binds**

"Italy? Romano?" America called out incredulously.

The twins looked towards America, Italy waving excitedly, "AMERICA! THANK THE PASTA WE FOUND YOU!"

"How in Captain America's name did you two get here?" America asked the nations in complete shock.

"That would be this idiota's fault," Romano jerked a thumb in the direction of a certain, ditzy Italian, "He found one of Britain's notes that apparently had some kind of teleportation spell on it... and he thought it was a brilliant idea to say the words aloud."

"Ve~ The words still don't make sense..." The northern half of Italy murmured and fingered an imaginary beard.

Romano rolled his eyes in annoyance, "Then we got lost after we ran into that replica of your brother, who told us to tell you that he had to leave town because of some evil queen of blackness and... yeah."

Alfred facepalmed. The Italy brothers weren't the brightest around, which was rather funny coming from him. They must have met Matthew in the forest and gotten lost God-knows-how... Probably had something to do with Italy thinking something resembled pasta and chased after it.

"Well, it's good that you found the hero, then!" America grinned, "I'll lead you back to Britain and he'll zap you back home!" He almost froze at how easily the words dripped from his lips. How long had it been since he had called himself that? How long had it been since he had called himself a hero?

The Italy brothers were obviously shocked by his enthusiasm, but didn't question it. "Ve, okay! Gratzie, America!" Italy smiled.

* * *

"Keep on holding that single shard and nothing more!"

"I d-don't think I can...!"

"Just focus, Matthew!"

Matthew stared intensely at the floating ice shard before him, which had been carefully formed by his magic. Salty, sticky sweat dripped slowly down his face with his eyebrows furrowed in a pensive frown. He had to concentrate so the shard wouldn't get bigger, smaller, or even multiply. Tristan had said it would help him control his abilities, but the seemingly simple task was proving to be very difficult. But, he told himself, he could do this. He was the Prince of Hearts! There was no possible way he would fail such a-

"HEY DUDES! I'M BACK WITH A SURPRISE!"

_Crash!_

Matthew stared in dismay at the fragments of ice scattered on the floor. Of course, something had to go wrong. His breathing still labored, Matthew threw an irritated glance at Alfred. "What is it, _Alfred_?" He hissed. Alfred smirked and moved to the side, revealing the Italians behind him.

"Italy? Romano?" Arthur exclaimed in disbelief.

"You two again?" Matthew blinked in mild surprise, "I was starting to wonder what happened after you two left, as Arthur and Alfred didn't seemed to have ran into you."

Arthur blinked his emerald eyes in confusion, "You've already met them?"

"I met them while I was escaping the town. I asked them to send you and Alfred a message, but they obviously never made it to you."

"Ve~ We got lost!" Italy explained in that airy, loose tone of his. The group couldn't help but sweatdrop at that, but were silenced by Romano's glare which seemed to say, '_Say anything and you're dead!_'

"Anyway," Romano growled, "We were hoping that Britain could teleport us back home. We only came here on accident and I left my tomatoes at home. Plus, that idiota Spain was supposed to visit. I don't want him messing up my house!" Before Britain could manage a reply, a scream and a crash echoed throughout the village. Tristan and Matthew were the first to respond as they burst out the door to view what was happening. They both paled at what they saw.

All of the houses on the eastern side of Midnight had either burst into flames or been crushed by an enormous creature. The creature was around twenty-feet-tall and was protected by thick, silvery scales. Wings connected to its spiny back and stretched out like deadly razor blades. The claws on the creature's feet were curved and pointed, each one clearly as sharp as a sword. Its head had a reptilian structure and a pair of cat-like, red orbs sat on each side of its head.

When the rest of the group had followed, they too stopped. They could only watch and wince as the creature let out an earsplitting roar and spat a fireball into the sky.

"I-Is that what I think it is?" Matthew muttered.

"I'm afraid so. It's a dragon!" Tristan cursed under his breath, "Gloriana keeps them as pets. She must be sending them to destroy random towns at an attempt to lure you into the open, but that doesn't matter right now. First things first, we have to stop the dragon and put out the fire!"

"And how are we meant to do that?" Alfred asked, yelling simply so he could be heard above the sound of the frantic villagers.

"By using magic, of course! Alfred, come with me to put out the fire! Arthur and Matthew, I think I can trust you to take care of the dragon! But don't lose control, Matthew! Newcomers, if you can fight with magic go with Matthew and Arthur, if not then you're with me! Understood?" Tristan ordered crisply. The group chirped quick "Yes, sir"s and ran off to do their respective tasks. While Italy had gone with Tristan, Romano had surprisingly gone with the other half of the group. Apparently, Romano had explained, he knew more magic than he let on.

Matthew and Romano gulped nervously at the enormous dragon that loomed before them, but Arthur took it all in stride. He smirked and whipped out a wand, which had a curious star at the end, "Stupefy!" A red light shot out the dragon, forcing the reptilian creature back, but not really harming it.

"Ignis accendo!" A ball of fire suddenly formed in front of Romano and was sent flying towards the dragon. Instead of being hurt, the dragon roared and now seemed to be in a rage due to being hit. The trio had to cover their ears to protect themselves from the loud, rumbling roar that the dragon yelled. The group were intimidated, to say the least.

To make it worse, it had started raining. Matthew briefly wondered if it was Tristan's attempts at stopping the fire, but was quickly distracted by a clawed foot swiping at him. He dodged the foot before it did any real damage, but a long, deep cut now ran across his right eye and cheekbone. He bit back a scream and scrunched his nose at the stench of blood.

Then, all of a sudden, Matthew felt his world stop. The rain seemed to move in slow-motion, along with the spells that Arthur and Romano produced at an attempt to stop the dragon. He briefly thought he saw Kumajiro jumping to his side as he gazed up at the dragon. He stared up at the lizard-like, magical creature with a smirk tugging the corners of his lips upwards. He stared nonchalantly into its crimson eyes and moved closer to it. The dragon stopped, as if it actually recognized Matthew, and a look of respect passed between the two. The prince put a finger to his lips and whispered, "Shh..." Frost drifted and floated on his breath, so softly and gently it was almost dream-like. Romano and Arthur couldn't help but stare in wonder and confusion at how the frost seemed to not be deterred by the rain. It landed on the dragon, causing it to unexpectedly and completely freeze. Then, to finish the scene with a grand finale, the frozen dragon broke into millions of ice shards...

"What the bloody hell...?" Arthur murmured and looked at Matthew. He immediately knew it wasn't Matthew anymore upon looking at his features. Confident and even a little egotistical would describe his smirk and his eyes displayed a darker and less innocent character. His fingers tightened around his wand, "Who are you?"

Matthew blinked at him in mild surprise, but his smirk quickly widened, "You're a smart one, but apparently not smart enough to figure it out~! Tsk, tsk! You'll have to do better than that, Arthur Kirkland." Matthew's smirk faded, a groan of pain passing his lips. He fell back and plunged into darkness for the second time in only a few hours.

* * *

_Matthew was drowning in a black world. His limbs felt dead and wouldn't move, leaving the prince immobile as he sank deeper into the cold, unforgiving darkness. Voices and memories taunted at him, yet he was unable to do anything about it. A tear unwillingly managed to fall from his eyes. He just wanted it to stop._

_But then, a new voice joined the others._

_**"What are you doing, Escollido?! Don't let them control you!**__"_

_Matthew snapped out of his reverie, finding himself no longer in black. The sky was dotted precisely and carefully with twinkling stars and below him was shimmering, ankle-deep water. He twisted and turned to try and find where he was and who had spoken, but the only result was the water rippling._

_**"Kesese, Escollido, you look like a lost puppy dog moving around like that!" **__The male voice laughed, __**"You won't find me unless I allow it."**_

_Matthew couldn't help but frown at the nickname the voice had given him. He didn't know what it meant, but it sounded like an insult. He didn't like being insulted by a random voice. It made things annoying. "What do you mean? Who are you? Where am I?" He shouted in an irritated voice. He felt glad that no one was here to see him yell at thin air._

_**"I mean exactly what I said, Escollido. You're deep in the realms of your mind and I just so happen to be able to control everything you do. We do share a body, after all. I'm just the stronger of the two souls."**_

_"Stronger? Share a body? Just who are you?!"_

_**"Aww, it appears time is already up. Pity, I wanted to rile you up more. Answers will have to be given later, Escollido! Wake-y, wake-y!"**_

* * *

Matthew woke up with a stiff neck and a thick bandage across his right eye. He sat up and looked around the bedroom curiously. His indigo-colored bed was twin-sized and pushed against the wall of the small room. A small window on the right wall allowed light to gently pour in and a wooden trunk sat at the end of the bed. He vaguely remembered at the back of his mind that this was the room Tristan had allowed him to use.

He turned his head to the doorway, where Arthur now stood with a bowl of water in his hands. The scowl that usually adorned his face softened ever so slightly (out of relief, Matthew assumed) as he spoke with his thick accent, "You're finally awake, I see. You've been out for two days, mostly because you slipped in and out of an odd fever. It was funny, though, because it had literally came from nowhere. Alfred was getting really worried." The bed dipped when Arthur sat at the end of the bed, putting the bowl of water on the small trunk beside it.

"Désolé. I didn't mean to worry everyone."

Arthur scrunched his nose in distaste, "I do wish you wouldn't speak that frog's language."

"Frog's language...?" Matthew blinked in confusion.

"The French language. It's the language created by France, or Francis Bonnefoy, back in our world. I suppose he was a father figure in your life. I think you even called him 'Papa.' He wasn't really your father, though. He's a stupid idiot who is obsessed with love and can't go a minute without saying the word '_l'amour_.' Ugh, just _thinking_ of that stupid frog gives me a headache!"

Matthew chuckled nervously and thought it was best to change the subject, "So what exactly happened during the fight?"

"Well..." Arthur frowned and folded his hands in his lap, "We were giving our best spells, but nothing seemed to work. We were so focused on stopping the dragon we forgot about you. You dodged it pretty well, but you still got that nasty wound on your face. That's when it happened. You stopped and your whole demeanor changed. It was quite clear to me that you weren't... well, you anymore. You smirked at the dragon and used some quite extraordinary ice magic to freeze it, before it broke into thousands of ice shards. I turned to face you and asked who you were, but you said I'll have to find out, rather rudely, I might add."

"I see..." Matthew mumbled. It was obvious to him what had happened. That... condescending voice he had heard in his dream had clearly taken him over. His only questions were who was he... and why.

"Did you or Romano tell the others?" The prince wondered aloud.

"No."

Matthew found that definitely grabbing his attention, "Why?"

"We both thought it would be best if you were to tell everyone, if you even wished to do so. I just told Alfred, Tristan, and Italy that you had been overwhelmed and fainted due to the overuse of your magic," Arthur explained plainly.

"Ah... Thank you, then."

The soul inside Matthew unknowingly smirked and thought silently, **_"Kesesese~ This is going to be interesting!"_**


	9. The Near Blind

**Author's Note:** OMG. I am so sorry for this late update that is not even marginally acceptable, considering how long I have been gone. I've been having a life crisis, along with my little dog having surgery. This entire summer has been an emotional wreck for me, but that is no excuse. I should have tried to update my stories... But anyway, enough of that! I'm not perfect, so I make mistakes! If you see I make a spelling or grammar mistake, let me know so I can change it! That's all for now, and I hope you enjoy! SAPPHIRE OUT!

**Warning: **Mild language, OCs, or possible genderbends will be used! Don't like, please move along and don't read~

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Hetalia (though I wish I did xD) or the animation that inspired this story. It's just fan stuff! :D

**Hetalia-FACE-Fangirl:** Yep! C: Oh, that will be explained in full... eventually. For now I just hint at the reason. And no prob! Oh, it was just an idea of mine that I thought would work well. xD I've never even seen Yu-Gi-Oh! .-.

**Canadatheninja: **Trololol~ In good time, my friend... In good time...

**Chapter Nine: The Near Blind**

Matthew considered himself a respectable, reasonable young prince. He was raised on the principles of etiquette, politeness, and thinking before doing. He could understand and deal with many things. He could even understand that a dragon's claw contained a poison that could kill, blind, and even paralyze the victim. He completely understood that the poison could blind the eye that had been scratched by the dragon. What he didn't understand, however, was why magic - something known to do incredible things - couldn't heal it!

"What do you mean my right eye is permanently blinded? Why can't magic heal it?" Matthew asked, his voice wavering and unsteady.

"Now Matthew," Tristan began in a calm tone, "You must understand that dragon poison is a tricky, deadly substance. It is beyond modern magic to even begin to fathom the components of the poison, which is a needed knowledge to understand how to undo it. I know that this is a lot to take in, but you have to know that you should be grateful. You could have been killed or paralyzed. You even have complete sight in your other eye!"

"Vissez le poison! Magie être damné!" Matthew suddenly spat, exiting the room.

Tristan's jaw fell as he chased after the prince, "Matthew! That is no language for a prince to use!"

Alfred blinked in confusion, "What did he say?"

"I believe... he said something I'd rather not repeat out loud in French," Arthur explained, equally as shocked as Tristan had been.

Alfred was silent for a moment before he burst into laughter, "I didn't know he had it in him!"

"Well, considering you're his brother, it is not that surprising."

"What's that suppose to mean?!" Alfred yelled incredulously.

"Nothing, just that your miscreant wanker tendencies have obviously rubbed off on him," Arthur replied smoothly.

"At least I can cook."

"TAKE THAT BACK, YOU FAT WANKER!"

"Don't bring my weight into this, which, by the way, is perfectly normal!"

* * *

Matthew stormed outside with clenched fists and sat angrily at the back of Tristan's small house, which was only a few paces from the Cerulean Bar. He let out an irritated sigh and ran a hand through his hair. He should not have said that then run out like he had. It was childish. He was normally more accepting than that! What in the name of Hearts had came over him? He completely blew that problem out of proportion...

"What's the matter, Your Highness?" A voice suddenly asked. Matthew jumped a little at the sound of the unexpected voice and looked up to find none other than the Joker of his kingdom. He let his shoulders sag in realization at the sight of the young female, who currently gazed at him with a worried expression.

"It's nothing for you to worry about, Miss Beaumont. I'm just feeling a little stressed," Matthew explained with a strained smile.

"Call me Kayla," Kayla stated and sat beside the prince.

He let out a chuckle at the informal response. "Okay, Kayla."

"It's all right to be stressed, you know. You have a kingdom on your shoulders and the prophecy to think about. It would get to the best of us."

"If you say so," Matthew shook his head and sighed, "Do you mind if I have a moment alone? It's nothing against you; I just need a moment to think."

"Of course, Your Majesty." She smiled and stood up, walking back inside Tristan's home. Matthew nodded as if to say goodbye then turned his gaze to look at nothing in particular, glad to have some quiet time for himself. He was about to close his eyes when a voice interrupted his thoughts.

**_"You should listen to that girl more. She knows so much more than you can imagine and is a phenomenon in this world. Plus she's cute," _**The voice snickered.

Matthew's eyes frantically scanned his surroundings to try and find the owner of the voice. "What? Who said that?"

**_"I would say you look like a lost puppy again, but you actually look more like a bird. Hey! Maybe I should call you Birdie instead of Escollido!"_** At the mention of looking like a lost dog and the strange nickname that held no meaning for him, Matthew immediately recognized the voice to be that of the person he had talked to during his strange dream. But he was awake now, unless he was greatly mistaken, so how could he be hearing the voice? Was he going insane? Had the stress really gotten to him that quickly?

"You're the voice from my dream, aren't you?" He asked to what seemed like no one in particular, "Where are you? Am I just going insane?"

**_"Kesesese! I already told you we share a body! It's not that hard to just speak in my own mind!"_** The voice spoke in grand tones that suggested he held himself higher than the prince and had a strange... lisp to his laugh? It was rather hard to describe, but if the circumstances had been different, the laugh could have been considered contagious.**_ "Also, it might be better to just think your reply, otherwise people might actually think that you are insane, but you know, hearing a voice inside your head, you're probably insane already."_**

_"Thanks for the helpful advice,"_ Matthew thought with bitter sarcasm, screwing his face up into an irritated pout before adding,_ "You hoser."_

The voice thought nothing of the insult and simply laughed, **_"Now, now, Birdie. You don't want to insult me when I'm about to explain some things!"_**

_"Désolé,"_ Matthew apologized meekly, the idea of finally getting some answers sounding very appealing, _"I didn't mean to be rude, but please refrain from calling me Birdie."_

**_"S'okay, Birdie! My awesomeness is forgiving!_**" Matthew felt his eyebrow twitch at the reply and was vaguely reminded of a certain brother from another world. **_"Anyway, first things first, you probably wanna know my awesome name. Well, that's a bit complicated. I was once called Prussia, but I'm not really him anymore, so don't call me that. In this world I am the Guardian, or the personification of this world. Don't ask about the lower personifications of each kingdom; that's a story for another time. If you really don't want to call me the Guardian, you're free to call me by my human name, Gilbert Beilschmidt."_**

_"What a minute... You're the Guardian?! The Guardian from all the legends?!"_ Matthew asked in shock. He felt his eyes widen visibly. There was no way that this... egoist could be the Guardian!

**_"Ouch. Egoist? I prefer awesomist,"_** Gilbert said in feigned hurt, reminding Matthew that the man could read all his thoughts. **_"Anyway, yes, you are correct. I am the one and only Guardian, or personification of the original kingdom."_**

Matthew had to let that thought sink in for a moment. _"O-Okay... So, um, why exactly are you in my body?"_

**_"Oh, well, that's were things get complicated. You see-"_**

Just as Matthew readily awaited the reply from Gilbert, he felt a searing pain shoot through his now blinded right eye. He screamed in such agony that the sound seemed to echo in every direction. The prince put a hand to his eye and felt his heart racing because of the shocking pain that pulsed through his violet-blue orb. He suddenly felt very distant, only being able to hear his heart pound like a memory that seemed so horribly familiar.

_Bum-buh-bum!_

_Bum-buh-bum!_

"Oh maple... It's like I'm in the dream again, except my eye is hurting, and I'm not in the mansion... Oh god, maybe I'm still there, and this has all been just a too-good-to-be-true dream..." Matthew mumbled to himself, clutching his eye in pain.

**_"What are you talking about, Matthew?! What's going on?" _**Gilbert asked immediately, worry now replacing his normally narcissistic tone. The blond did not respond and simply continued murmuring incoherent nonsense. The so-called Guardian kept on shouting inside Matthew's head, asking for answers over and over again, but receiving none.

It might have continued in this manner if Alfred had not happened to hear the earsplitting scream that strangely fell deaf on every other ear, despite the loud volume of the scream. Hearing the scream and recognizing it instantly as he was walking outside, Alfred ran at top speed to where Matthew sat in his weakened state.

"Matthew!" He said in shock and knelt beside his brother, "Matthew, what's wrong?" Matthew took no notice of Alfred and unceasingly murmured about nonsense that involved him still being in the mansion, as well as still clutching at his eye in pain. Alfred watched his brother in this strange state that almost made him seem like he belonged in an asylum. The American frowned for a moment before he promptly raised his arm and slapped Matthew's cheek.

Matthew froze, the slap bringing him back to reality. He looked at Alfred and blinked his uncovered eye at him in a dazed manner. "Al...?"

"Matthew! Thank God you're okay!" Alfred cheered softly, a look of concern still on his face, "What just happened?"

"I... I'm not exactly sure. My right eye started hurting all the sudden, then the only sound that I was able to hear was my heart beating. It reminded me of the mansion and began to think that I was still there. Memories of the mansion started flooding into me... and eventually that's all I could see and hear, until you slapped me that is."

Alfred frowned in confusion. "Okay... I don't really understand, but it seems like it all started with your eye. Does it still hurt?"

Matthew shrugged slightly in reply and removed the hand that had been covering his blinded eye. "Not really, it just stings a little now." Alfred's face visibly paled the moment the eye was revealed. It was as if he was seeing the worst possible thing that he could ever imagine. The prince's eyebrows furrowed at the sight of horror in his brother's blue eyes. What could possibly scare his brother that much?

"What is it, Alfred?" He asked.

"Matthew..." Alfred began, "Your right eye is completely _violet_."


End file.
